Battle of the Heart
by itsLisey
Summary: Set after the Season 2 finale. Jane wants to fight for their friendship, but Maura isn't sure how. Even more, Maura is beginning to recognize her more than platonic feelings towards her detective friend. Can they find their way back to how things were?
1. Prologue

**This is basically going to be what I think is going to happen in Season 3 - story form. I can't promise consistant updates but I can promise to try and make this as good as I can. Seven months without Rizzles? That's crazy talk. Let me know what you think in the reviews. Also let me know what YOU think is going to happen in Season 3. **

"_Maura," Jane whispered. "Maura, please. Let me just put this under his head." She waved her jacket by her friend, only to receive the same icy stare she saw moments before. Beneath Jane and Maura, Paddy Doyle lay unconscious and in a pool of his own blood. _

_Blood that Jane had spilt. _

_Maura covered the wound with both her petite hands and turned away from Jane. She whispered quiet reassurances to the injured man, though Jane wasn't sure if he was dead or alive. Again, the dark haired detective reached for her friend only to be shrugged away. Maura didn't bother looking up this time. For just one moment, Maura stopped whispering to her biological father and instead spoke only to Jane, words that Jane never thought she would hear from her best friend and coworker. "I never want to see you again," whispered Maura, her words slicing through the tense air. "Get out of here." When Jane didn't move, Maura yelled. "Go." Jane scrambled backwards leaving Maura crouched in her fathers blood. _

_Gabriel, his shoulder already wrapped in gauze from where Doyle grazed him with a bullet, touched Jane's arm. "I couldn't just be Gabriel." he muttered. _

"_And I will never be your Jane." Jane whispered gruffly. _

* * *

><p>Jane didn't like being wrong, but she couldn't think of a time that she was any more wrong than she was that day. Everything seemed like a blur; the ambulances, the paramedics, Doyle being laid out on a stretcher, her best friend – her very <em>best <em>friend – being denied the right to ride in the ambulance with her father... that look alone crushed Jane into even smaller pieces. Maura looked so small as she stood alone in the middle of the room, her shoulders convulsing as she burned through her tears. Somehow Jane fell back among the chaos, gave her report to Cavanaugh when he arrived on scene, and slipped away to her car. As she sat there, her eyes staring idly in the distance where she could still make out the tiny frame of her best friend, she knew she had screwed up. She had made the biggest mistake of her life.

She had unclipped her gun holster from her belt and dropped it on the passenger seat. It felt dirty. Never before had Jane wanted so badly to wash her hands, and never before had she been so scared that this time the blood wouldn't wash off. Roughly, she thrust the car into reverse and pulled out of the lot much faster than she knew she should have. Something had been telling her to stop and to turn around. She had wanted to talk to Maura, comfort her, hug her, apologize – but Maura made it perfectly clear that she did not want to see Jane, talk to Jane, be comforted by Jane, be hugged by Jane or hear any apology Jane could come up with. And really, what type of apology would be even _kind of _satisfactory? _I'm sorry I shot your biological father after he shot my two day federal boyfriend who I shouldn't have told about your biological father because that was sort of a secret between us and Korsak and Frost and I'm sorry I did all this while your mother was in the hospital after being hit by a car that was trying to run you down? _Jane had to slam on her breaks to catch the stop sign. No, she thought. That would definitely be a shit apology.

Jane sat hunched over on her couch that night, one hand nursing a beer and the other tangled in her hair. She wondered if there was any chance of Maura forgiving her. Would she forgive herself? She took a swig of beer.

"Nope." She downed her third bottle and sank into the couch, reveling in the darkness of her apartment.

* * *

><p>Maura couldn't remember if she had eaten yet. She couldn't remember much of anything. When she closed her eyes, even for the smallest second to blink, Maura saw Patrick Doyle falling from that catwalk so high above the ground, her best friends bullet lodged in his chest. She knew it was irrational to scream at Jane the way she did; Jane was her best friend, her most loyal, caring, loving confidant. Somewhere in the midst of the chaos, Maura found herself longing to both strangle and hug Jane Rizzoli, because she was the one and only person on the planet Maura had ever found herself able to relax around. Being Jane's friend taught Maura how to be herself. It taught Maura who she really was. Having Jane as a friend very well saved Maura from a life of everlasting loneliness, whether Maura liked to admit it or not. This was mostly because Jane Rizzoli taught Maura things about herself that she never wanted to know; how broken she truly was and how fragile. How badly she needed someone, when her whole life she insisted she was fine on her own. So as Maura knelt on the ground beside her biological fathers bloodied body, she bled as well. Something inside of her broke.<p>

"Hello Bass," Maura crouched down to pat her tortoises shell. He was one of the greatest sources of comfort Maura had in her life prior to Jane, and now Maura wondered if he would be the only source of comfort post-Jane. Post-Jane. How ridiculous those words sounded to Maura as she poured herself a glass of wine. A very large, very full glass of wine. One sip, two sip, three sips – Maura let the cool liquid slip down her throat, hoping that on its way down it would numb some of what she was feeling. Patrick Doyle – her father – _no, Patrick Doyle; _he was still alive. Unconscious, in what Maura could only assume was unbearable pain, but he was alive. Jane hadn't killed him. There he lay at the hospital, his wrist handcuffed to the bed and three federal agents standing at his door. Somewhere deep inside Maura knew that, logically, the federal bureau of investigations could not consciously let a mob boss lay in a hospital unguarded and unrestrained; nevertheless, she felt a stab of anger as she watched an emotionless agent slap the cold metal cuffs against his unmoving hand. Maura pulled herself away just quickly enough to avoid the pressing stares. Everyone knew now. Everyone knew she was Patrick Doyle's daughter. Everyone at the department knew and she was sure that the story of what happened at the burned down factory would be front page news. Somewhere in there, she would be able to find her name.

Maura Isles.

Chief Medical Examiner at the Boston Police Department.

Biological daughter of head mob boss, Patrick Doyle.

Yes, she would be able to find her name alright. And next to her name – or maybe not next to it, Maura reasoned – but somewhere in the jumble of half-baked words and incessant journalistic rambling, Maura would be able to find Jane's name. Detective Jane Rizzoli, best friend to chief medical examiner at the Boston Police Department, shot Patrick Doyle, biological father to Dr. Maura Isles. It would be there, Maura thought as she took a large sip of wine. The glass was half-empty now. She set it on the counter and looked around her apartment.

A pair of Jane's shoes sat at the back door where she kicked them off every single time, completely ignoring Maura's protests. Her jacket – an official Boston Police Department jacket that she wore whenever they went running – was hanging on the coat rack, and Maura knew that if she were to go look inside the right pocket, she would surely find Jane's iPod. A small food and water dish for Jo Friday was kicked to the side of the fridge, and hanging just above on a hook attached to the wall was the spare leash Maura always kept for her when Jane brought Jo Friday over. The fridge itself seemed to be a collage of Jane and Maura's friendship; a photo of the two of them at the Dirty Robber on Maura's birthday, another photo of the whole family – Maura, Jane, Angela, Frankie, Korsak and Frost – sitting around Maura's dining room table. Above that was the stupidest drawing Maura had ever seen in her life.

"_I don't understand why you won't just go with me," said Maura as she took a bite of the omelette Angela had just sat down in front of her. Jane cocked an eyebrow and looked at her friend with great indignation._

"_Really? You don't know why I don't want to go?" _

_Maura set her fork down and stared at Jane pointedly. "No, no I don't. The artwork being shown is one of a kind, Jane. It's priceless. Some have said that it could be the art of the future." _

"_Yeah," Jane snorted. "I bet it's a bunch of forks glued to some tin cans with a – wait, what's the term that you prefer to use? A _phallus shaped object _taped on the front. Boom, art." she took a large bite of sausage and set her fork down as well. Maura was glaring at her. "What? Aw, c'mon, Maur. You can't really want me to go with you." The honey blonde said nothing. "I'm not interesting in going and seeing highly sexualized, perverted artwork with a bunch of di-hi Ma." This time, Maura laughed and dotted the corners of her mouth with a napkin to cover it up. Jane glared over her coffee mug. _

_Angela, completely oblivious, slapped down another plate of toast and smiled. "Any plans for tonight?" _

"_Well, I was going to take Jane to an art show that I've been hearing about but apparently she has some sort of affliction with the human male's pe-" _

"_-riodicals. Their periodicals. Yeah, they write a lot of them, and they're all so chauvinistic and...manly. Very woman get back in the kitchen kind of stuff. So anyway," she took a long swig of her coffee, her eyes peeking over the top edge so she could see her best friend. Maura sat across from her with a very satisfied smirk stretched across her thin face. Jane snatched a napkin up from the holder and sneakily removed the pen from Angela's belt loop. "Okay, look. Maur. You wanna see real artwork?" _

"_Hey that's my pen!" Angela protested. "I need that to take orders and stuff." _

"_Yeah, 'cause you're so busy." droned Jane, throwing her arm around the restaurant and pointing to all the empty tables. She turned back to Maura. "This is artwork. Hey, no peeking." she shoved Maura's face away from her. "Turn around." Hesitantly, Maura turned away from Jane, occasionally turning around just enough to sneak another bite of her omelette. When Jane had put her finishing touches on her drawing, she proudly turned it to face only her and held the blank side in front of Maura's face like a blanket. "Okay, are you ready?" She didn't wait for Maura to respond. She flipped the napkin over and on it were two stick drawings, both girls, one with very long wavy hair and the other with thick curls. The one Maura presumed to be Jane had a crooked stick in her hand. _

"_What is that?" she asked, pointing to the object in question. Jane stared blankly at Maura._

"_It's my gun." _

"_No," said Maura, shaking her head. "That's a deformed stick. You can't possibly believe this is better than what we would be seeing at an art show, Jane. These are anatomically incorrect and it looks like it was drawn by a five year old." she stabbed a piece of omelette with her fork. "You know, no head could possibly be supported by a body of that size." _

"_Maura, it's a stick figure." The M.E didn't say anything. "So of course it looks like it was drawn by a five year old. That's what five year olds do. They draw stick figures." _

_Puzzled, Maura cocked her head to the side. "But you're not five," _

"_It's a joke, Maur." Jane sighed. "Just do like all good people do with drawings by a five year old and put it on your refrigerator." _

"_What do you mean?" _

"_What do I – what do you mean what do I mean? Didn't your mom ever hang your report card on your fridge, or a drawing or something?" _

"_I-... well, no." _

_Jane leaned forward and grabbed the doctor's purse, stuffing the napkin inside. "Next time I come over, that better be on your fridge." she grabbed a piece of toast and spread some jam on the top. "If it's not, I'm going to seriously regret coming to this stupid thing tonight." Maura broke into a wide smile. _

"_So you'll come?" _

"_As long as there is beer after." _

Maura touched the napkin with her index finger. It had been on her fridge since that very night. She pulled herself away and walked upstairs to her bedroom. Before Jane, she hadn't realized just how lonely she felt in such a big house. Now, on the nights Jane didn't stay with her, Maura found herself keeping on lights she never left on before and letting the television stay on simply so she could hear the voice of another human. More often than not, Maura would turn down the bedding in the spare room in case Jane did show up in the middle of the night like she did so many times in their friendship. She neared the spare room first, and peeked in. Really, it wasn't a spare bedroom anymore. It was Jane's. If she had to, Maura couldn't count the times Jane stayed over on her fingers and toes. Presently, Maura could think of at least fifteen times in the past month that the doctor and detective had had an unofficial "sleepover". The dresser in the farthest corner of the bedroom held a few bits of clothing that Jane had left here and there, and Maura was sure that in the closet there were at least two dresses – Jane's skin hugging black dress and her v-neck red one. With one last look at the room, Maura turned the light off. She wouldn't have to turn down the bedding tonight.

Because of how often Jane slept over, Maura's own bedroom seemed like foreign territory. The girls usually fell asleep side by side in Jane's room after a long night of talking or watching movies. Maura would always wake first. She would carefully untangle herself from Jane, who had the very endearing habit of spooning – though Maura would never embarrass Jane and tell her. Maura smiled as she slipped off her shoes. Jane would be mortified if Maura ever mentioned it. Her smile turned to a frown.

Would she ever speak to Jane again?

Maura walked to her mirror and stared at her own reflection. Her eyes looked tired, red and puffy. She seemed paler than normal. Everything about her seemed different; she seemed sadder, emptier, more broken – when Maura looked at herself, she saw her teenage counterpart. She saw the girl who stayed up all hours a night filling her head with useless information in order to deter herself from thinking about her family – or, lack thereof. She never wanted to think about the mother who was too busy with her own career and social life to come to her piano or dance recitals. Maura never wanted to think about her father who cared much more about the money he was making than how Maura spent it on boarding schools, books and research. She certainly never wanted to think about the parents who so easily gave her away to whoever would take her. Above all, Maura didn't want to think about how utterly alone she was, and how those books were her only true companions and science was her only love.

First, Maura slipped off her jacket. Following that, she unbuttoned her top. When she had finally shrugged it off her shoulders, she slid her skirt down her waist and soon she was standing in front of the mirror in only her bra and underwear. Those soon came next. There Maura Isles stood, naked and exposed in front of the mirror. She stared at herself for a very long time, before finally baking away and taking a seat at the edge of her bed.

She was naked. Everything about her was naked.

Maura couldn't feel a thing.


	2. House of Glass

**Episode 1 Season 3**

When Jane woke the next morning, she wasn't sure if her headache was from the beer or from her own personal afflictions. She squinted away from the light streaming through her windows. Her alarm hadn't woken her up; instead it was a knocking at the door. Jane knew that knock. Dread filled every crevice of her thin body, and she contemplated whether or not she should even open the door.

"Hi Ma," Jane muttered as she flung the door open. She barely looked at Angela and turned around, making a beeline for the couch. One of the many reasons Jane couldn't wait to move out when she was a teenager was the idea that she wouldn't have to deal with her mother before noon – Jane was very wrong, indeed. Angela made her way straight towards the kitchen and began pulling down pots and pans. The clanging of the metal pans sounded like nails on a chalkboard to Jane, and each time her mom would drop something and say "oops!", Jane had to scrunch her hands into fists and bite her tongue. "What're you doin' here, Ma?"

Angela turned and stared at her daughter. "What? Can't a mother come cook breakfast for her daughter? You live alone, Janie, and have no one to cook for you. And you're so thin-"

"-I eat just fine-"

"-at least when Maura is here I know you're eating a proper meal-"

"-speaking of Maura, Ma. Listen-"

"-you eat so poorly, Janie. You're going to have a heart attack by the time you're 40!-"

"-Ma-"

"You know I've been thinkin', we should all get a family portrait together-"

"-Ma!"

"-you and Frankie and Tommy and I have no family pictures and-"

"-_Ma-_"

"-I was thinkin' maybe Maura and-"

Jane stood up and walked over to the kitchen. She leaned over and flicked each of the burners on the stove off, then turned to Angela with as serious a face as she could muster at eight o'clock in the morning – her detective 'I mean business' face, as Maura so affectionately called it. Angela huffed and began mumbling something in Italian that Jane only understand fragments of. "Listen to me, please. Maura and I..." Jane hesitated. Giving her mother too much information was bad, but not giving her enough would mean endless prying. "We're not," Another pause. "...talking, right...now." she said awkwardly.

"You're in a fight?"

Jane chuckled. Yeah. Fight. "Yeah, we're in a fight." she turned away and went back towards the couch, hoping and praying that Angela wouldn't follow her.

"Oh Janie," Angela rolled her eyes. "Friends fight. You two'll get over it."

"Not so sure about this time, Ma." she snapped.

"What'd you do?"

"Why do I always have to do somethin'? Maybe it was her!"

"I can see it in your face, Jane! I'm your mother."

Jane crossed her arms defensively. "Really? Do you have some sixth sense or something?"

"When you're a mother you'll understand!" screeched Angela. "_If _you're ever a mother. I don't know why you don't just let me set you up with a nice Italian boy-"

"_Ma," _Jane held up her hands in protest. "I don't need you settin' me up. I can get my own date, thank you very much."

"Yeah because you go on so many dates, Jane. I just don't understand you."

"Yeah well I don't understand your obsession with my love life."

"I'll stop obsessing over it if you just settle down with someone!"

"Can we just drop it? It's over, done."

"Oh no, no, no. You have to tell me what you did."

"Actually, I don't."

"Why not just tell me?"

"Because it's none of your business!"

"I live with Maura, it is my business."

"I'm leaving." Jane got up and turned towards the door, then briskly stopped. Flustered, she threw her hands up in the air and stared incredulously at her mother. "Wait, no I'm not. This is my apartment. _You _leave."

"Just tell me what you did and I'll go."

"No."

"Jane."

"Ma."

"Fine," Angela walked to the couch and plopped down, picking up a magazine and flipping to the first page. "I guess I'm not leavin', then. Hope you have something for dinner."

It was too much for Jane. "I shot her father!" she yelled. Jo Friday scampered off to the bedroom.

There was a long pause before finally Angela threw the magazine at her daughter. "Go shoot your own father! Why'd you have to go shoot Maura's!" Jane rubbed her eyes and sighed. Angela through her hands up in the air. "This is why I didn't want you to be a police officer, Janie."

"What? You knew I'd shoot my best friends biological Irish mob boss father?"

"Someone is always getting shot. Frankie's gettin' shot, you're gettin' shot, you're shootin' yourself, you're all bein' shot at, you're shootin' people's father's. When does it end? I just don't get it. I say throw all the guns in the ocean and be done with it."

"You're right, Ma. We'll just shoot criminals with sticks of rainbows and cans of silly string."

"Why you always mean to me, huh?" Jane groaned and leaned up against the door frame. "You know, maybe if you just apologized-"

Jane deadpanned. "Yeah, I'll get right on that whole apologizing for shooting her father thing."

"You're too negative,"

Rolling her eyes, Jane turned around and began walking back out. "Okay, I'm getting ready for work." Angela reached out and grabbed her daughters arm before she could get to far. "C'mon, Ma"

This time though, Angela transformed into the rare, sympathetic mother that Jane rarely saw both now and during her childhood. Her eyes softened, her lips turned downed and instead of the normal aggravated, annoyed sigh that Angela had perfected over the years, the mother sighed with sadness and pity. "You and Maura are good for each other," she said quietly. "And she might be mad right now, but lemme tell you somethin' Janie. That girl loves you, and she isn't gonna be mad for long. No chance of it," Her lips turned up just slightly, into a weak smile.

"Thanks, Ma." And even though Jane wasn't sure if she believed it, a small wave of relief trickled through her body.

* * *

><p>Maura groaned when her alarm clock when off at five o'clock in the morning. Normally, she could easily slip from her covers and begin getting ready for her day, but the weight of yesterday's events seemed to be sitting right on top of her. Barely able to lift her arms, she rolled over onto her stomach and sighed heavily into her pillow. Logically, she could sleep another hour or two. She probably could sleep the rest of the day if she really wanted to. There was no reason she couldn't or shouldn't call off work. But the very punctual, very time oriented part of Maura was much stronger inside of her than anything else. She kicked back her covers and let her feet drop onto the cold wooden floor.<p>

One glance outside told her that her day was going to be as miserable as how she already felt. Fat rain drops drenched Boston. Ominous grey clouds covered every inch of the sky and the trees swayed among the rain. It surprised her to find the half-empty wine glass still sitting on the kitchen counter where she left it the night before. Her mind must have been even more boggled than she thought; she had never let a dish sit out so long before in her life. Quickly, she rinsed it and replaced its vacancy with a juice glass and several ibuprofen. Her head seemed to be pulsating from the pain. She stood at the counter for a few more moments before climbing back up the stairs to her bedroom.

First, she walked to her closet. The doors seemed heavier than usual. She flicked through dress after dress but nothing seemed suitable to wear to work. The skirts were all too short, too wrinkled, too fancy, too casual. None of the tops were bright enough. Everything reminded her of funeral attire. Her dress coats seemed much too stiff. Finally, when she'd reached the portion of her closet where several of Jane's clothes hung, she abruptly shut the door.

Just as one angry tear threatened to fall, Maura's cell phone rang. Her stomach flipped. She walked to her bedside and dug through the dark blue leather purse that sat on its table top. Her eyes shut almost instantly when she saw the hospitals number. Squeezing them tight, almost as though if she were to open her eyes it would automatically mean it was bad news, she answered the phone and pressed it to her ear.

Praying her voice didn't fail her, Maura opened her mouth to speak. "Dr. Isles."

* * *

><p>Jane walked into the bullpen with absolutely zero intention on getting any work done. Sleep hadn't come easily; she mostly tossed and turned, her mind drifting between how angry she was at Gabriel Dean and how angry she was at herself. But most often, her mind ventured into the very touchy zone of her best friend. A few times Jane reached over to her bedside to grab her car keys with the intention of driving over Maura's, busting through the front door, and groveling until she got her forgiveness. Each time she stopped herself. As aggravating as it was to be visited by Angela so early in the morning, even Jane had to admit that had her mother not shown up, the chance of her being at work that morning (and on time) was slim to none.<p>

Korsak and Frost were already behind their desks with coffee when Jane walked in. They each nodded to her, their faces a mixture of sympathy and unease. Jane was sure that they had been talking about her before she walked in. It didn't make her mad. She would probably be talking about what happened too, if she hadn't been involved in it.

"You look like hell." Korsak called from his desk. Jane spun around and shot him an irritated gaze, one that she normally saved for Frankie.

"Can't anyway give a simple hello in this damn place anymore?"

Frost grinned, "Hello."

"Screw you." Jane turned back around and flipped through the top files left on her desk. She still had to fill out an incident report. Just as she grabbed the necessary paperwork, a post-it note fell out between the pages. Scribbled on it in messy handwriting was a note to her. After reading it, she turned around and faced Korsak and Frost. "You seen him?" she said, pointing to the note.

Korsak scrunched up his face. "See who?"

"Dean."

"Not since yesterday. They took him to the hospital to get him stitched up. Haven't seen him since, why?"

Jane said nothing and turned back around, the note stuck between her two fingers. Dean wanted to talk. Just as she tossed the note in the trash, Cavanaugh's office door sprung open and he waved to the three of them. "Detective Rizzoli," he said grimly, nodding towards Jane. "Detective Korsak, Detective Frost. My office, please." Jane knew that tone. It was very rare that any of them were invited into Cavanaugh's office for anything less than miserable news, and from the tone of his voice, Jane was sure that one of them, or all of them, had pissed someone off and that someone took it straight to Cavanaugh. Korsak went in first, then Frost, and Jane was left to close the door behind them. None of them took a seat. Instead, they stood together as partners at the front of their lieutenant's desk. "I'd first like to say congratulations." Jane's mouth dropped. She looked to her side where Frost and Korsak stood. They both looked as confused as she did. "Catching Patrick Doyle on top of an arsonist that has burned down buildings all over the city? That deserves recognition." Jane's stomach plummeted. She didn't want recognition for her work in catching Patrick Doyle. Korsak fidgeted and stepped forward.

"All due respect," he began. "But I believe congratulations are never appropriate when they come from using our gun, sir. Especially when we fire at the risk of," his eyes darted to Jane and then back to Cavanaugh. "Especially when there are risks involved." Jane bowed her head.

Cavanaugh cleared his throat. "Yes," he nodded. "Speaking of such, Rizzoli." Jane's head shot up and she looked her lieutenant in the eye. "How is Dr. Isles?"

"Haven't spoken to her."

"Well," he muttered, his eyes scanning over the three of them. "Take a seat. There are a few matters that need to be discussed. First off, Rizzoli." he looked straight towards Jane. "As thankful as I am that you shot down," Jane flinched. "-one of the top Irish mob bosses of our time, the matter of his parental status towards our chief medical examiner has put us in a bit of a dilemma." Cavanaugh produced several files from his desk and spread them out. "By not telling me that Dr. Isles was Doyle's biological daughter, we now have to throw out every case she worked on."

Jane's mouth fell open. "How the hell do you figure that?"

"Conflict of interest," he said simply. "Defense attorney's get wind of his _daughter _working on his cases, they'll throw us under the bus. Everything we've collected over the years will be discredited. We can't put her on the stand, we can't use her forensic evidence. Poof. We have nothing."

"No," Jane sat up straight and slammed her hand on the desk. "That's insane, you can't just throw those cases out! What if she didn't know he was her father at the time of the case? She didn't find out until her _brother _landed on her table, and after that Maura only worked on – what, one, two of the cases?"

"And those are the cases that are being thrown out. Thankfully, Maura wasn't employed here during Doyle's crime spree so we can still charge him on a handful of crimes. I'm just telling you, Rizzoli-" he put his finger up to stop her from interuptting. "Detective, I do not appreciate being spoken to as if I don't know what I'm doing. Maura will _not _be testifying at her father's trials. I thought that would be somewhat of a relief to you, considering you will still be obligated to testify on the Department's behalf _if _we deem it appropriate."

"If you deem it – what?"

"We're not sure if you're going to hurt us or help us, Rizzoli. For one thing," he opened the first case file and shoved it in front of Jane. "You knowingly allowed our chief medical examiner to perform forensic work on a case involving a direct blood relative. Second, you brought in a federal agent in on a case he wasn't authorized to work on that led to a shoot out with the agent injured and the criminal we _weren't _chasing in the hospital. You didn't report that you knew Patrick Doyle was in town to the authorities. You reported it to your boyfriend. Should I go back to number two?"

Jane began getting heated. "Maura was not raised by Patrick Doyle. She didn't even know he existed until her dead brother ended up on her table downstairs. Only after someone called up to double check the DNA did Maura realized that he was her brother, and only after Patrick Doyle showed up here did she realize Doyle was her father. She had no ties to Doyle other than her DNA."

"And you're telling me that girl has no emotional baggage from the abandonment she felt from being adopted out? C'mon, Rizzoli. You didn't think that it could be a problem one day down the line if we ever got to trial? All the defense attorney would have to say is that Maura fabricated evidence in order to put her father in jail so that he would get what he deserved after abandoning her as an infant."

"Maura would never do that."

"Maura isn't the jurie's best friend. She's yours." Those words hit Jane hard. She didn't know if Maura was her best friend anymore. She wasn't even sure if she was considered anything to Maura. Jane leaned back in her chair, folded her hands and looked straight up at her boss.

"So," she said curtly. "Why exactly are we in here?"

"Even with the cases Maura has seen and contributed to, we have enough on Patrick Doyle to put him away for life, three times over. I need all of you working to put together this case. I do not want any bad press on this one," he eyed them all. "Not anymore than we're already going to have, at least. Rizzoli," he spoke to Jane directly. "You're pushing paper until this is all over." Jane bent forward to protest, but Cavanaugh cut her off. "Don't argue with me." he said sternly, pointing to the door. Clearly, they were dismissed. Cavanaugh called Jane's name once more before she could make her way out of the door. "Rizzoli, you're running out of passes."

"Excuse me?"

"You need to start playing by the rulebook, not by your heart."

Taken aback, Jane folded her arms defiantly. "If I was playing by my heart, Patrick Doyle wouldn't be lying in a hospital bed right now. He wouldn't be in Boston. I wouldn't be standing here, and Maura would be down in autopsy." And with that, Jane turned on her heel and stalked back to her desk.

"Y'okay, Jane?" asked Korsak, as Jane reached her chair. She yanked open a drawer and began digging through it. First she grabbed her gun, then her phone and badge. "Jane-"

"Going home for the day." she said curtly. "Forward my calls."

"Jane, you did the right thing." Korsak called out. Jane was already at the elevator.

* * *

><p>"So she'll be able to come home tonight?" asked Maura suspiciously. A young, dark haired doctor stood in front of Maura, her eyes running over the chart in her hand. She nodded to every single question that Maura asked, barely opening her mouth even to take a breath. Finally she looked up to meet Maura's eyes. For the first time, Maura was convinced the woman was alive. She smiled politely, her cheap red lipstick breaking between the lines of her lips.<p>

"Your mother's recovery is quite incredible," she said in awe. "Forgive me if I'm being rude. Her charts are remarkable. Reading them reminds me of why I became a doctor in the first place." When Maura didn't say anything, the doctor continued. "Intrigue. Mysteries. The human body is so complex. The fact that your mother has healed so quickly... really, it's mind boggling. It's cases like these that help us all get through the boring ones." She returned the clipboard to Constance's file holder and looked at Maura, this time with a perkier smile. "As soon as you fill out the discharge papers, you can take her home. She should stay with a relative for a few days,"

Maura nodded quickly. "She'll be staying with me."

"Wonderful," the doctor turned to walk towards the front desk, hesitated, and then turned back around. This time, her smile wasn't as bright. "I'm sorry to hear about your, er..." she bit her lip.

"Thank you." said Maura quickly. With a brief understanding, the doctor turned back around and left for her next patient. Maura, wiping her tired eyes, walked back into the hospital room and smiled weakly at her mother. Constance was sitting upright in bed staring at the blank television, a book lodged between her hands but completely ignored. "I'm sorry, did you want me to bring you a different book? I thought-"

"Oh," Constance looked down at the book, then back at Maura. "Oh! Oh no, dear. This one was fine. One of my favorites, actually. Excellent choice." she smiled. "No, no. My mind was just else where, I suppose."

"Do you know when father is getting in from his trip?"

"Should be any day now," she said quietly. "I presume that I'm returning to your house."

"The doctor has advised that you stay under some supervision after you leave, yes." Maura began folding Constance's bath robe. "I was thinking you could stay in my guest bedroom, if you're alright to walk up the stairs."

Constance smiled. "That should be fine. Doesn't Jane usually use that room when she comes over? I wouldn't want to take up her space." Maura froze. She forgot that of all the people in Boston, her own mother was probably one of the only people not to know about Patrick Doyle. Even as she walked into the hospital, Maura found more and more people staring at her, their hands crushing a copy of the Boston newspaper. Maura had seen it as well. Her photo and Jane's both graced the front page. "Dear?"

"It's fine." Maura said curtly. "The bedroom, it's fine. There isn't a problem with you staying in it."

"Could you run down and fetch me a newspaper? It feels strange not to have picked one up in days."

"You know," Maura muttered, forcing a chuckle from the back of her throat. "The strangest thing. I looked for one downstairs and they were all out," she stuffed the folded robe into a bag and straightened back up, wholly ignoring looking her mother in the eye. For years, the mere idea of telling a lie made Maura nauseous. Actually telling one sprung her body into a fit of hives. Now, it merely made her itchy and nauseous, and quite sick with herself. "I'll get you one tomorrow morning, yes?"

Quicker than Maura realized, she and her mother were back at the house. A tense silence filled the room. Even though their relationship had been getting considerably less foreign, neither of them had ever quite been ready to jump into sleepovers and extended visits.

"I don't think I've ever told you, Maura." Constance said as she shakily sat down onto the couch. "This house really is magnificent. You have wonderful taste."

Maura smiled sincerely for the first time in two days. "Thank you, mother." She set down a glass of water and a pile of medications in front of Constance, grimacing. "I know it's a lot, but,"

"I suppose there comes a time in everyone's life when they have to take more pills than they can swallow at once," she said with a small smile. "It's called old age."

"I'd hardly call what you went through a cause of old age."

"I'm certainly getting there. At least I finally have a relationship with you," she gripped Maura's arm and smiled. "That would have been my biggest regret in life. You are so brilliant, so accomplished. I am so proud of you, Maura. I am so lucky."

"Lucky?"

"To be able to call you my daughter."

A short silence followed. While Constance dug through her medications, Maura turned on the television and flipped through the channels aimlessly. She always got so mad at Jane when she would do this. There was only one channel Maura was ever interested in – Discovery – but Jane was a channel flicker, and she had to run through every last station, sometimes twice, before she settled on what to watch. Every commercial, she would pick up the remote and look through it again. God help them all if there were two programs she wanted to watch. Maura stopped when she came across the history channel. She didn't want to think about Jane anymore.

Something else had been running through her mind all day. Just before Patrick slipped into unconsciousness, a single name – Hope – fell off his lips. And almost the same day, Constance had woken from her coma only to say Patrick's name, thinking she heard his voice – which she very well did. Constance hadn't brought it up again, and Maura only assumed that she didn't remember what she said at all, nor did she remember Patrick's visit to her hospital room. But now, with so many questions on her mind, Maura was desperate for answers.

"I had a..." she hesitated. "-question, for you. I don't want to risk offending you."

"Go ahead," urged Constance.

"My biological parents." began Maura. "Did you know them?"

Constance twitched, then regained composure. But Maura saw it. Maura saw the hesitation. It was true. Constance Isles knew Patrick Doyle. "We've been through this before, Maura. You were a closed adoption." she said tiredly, taking another sip of water. "We weren't allowed to know."

"Why was it closed?"

"People close adoptions all the time. Legal reasons, privacy reasons."

"Weren't you curious?"

"Of course I was curious," scoffed Constance. "You were my daughter. I wanted to know the people you came from. I wanted to be able to give you medical history. Fortunately, we were able to request some things – blood types, history of diseases in the family, things like that. That's all we needed to know. They gave you up, Maura." The last sentence was spoken so harshly that it even threw Maura off. Constance realized it as well and her expression softened. "I just don't understand why this is important." She stood up in one last attempt at finalizing the conversation. "I think I'm going to go take a nap," she mumbled.

Maura knew it was a bad idea. She knew it was crazy. She knew that impulsiveness was not a trait of hers that worked very well. Above all, Maura knew that most of her actions that day were being driven solely by sleep deprivation and a strong headache that didn't seem to want to go away. But as Constance Isles gracefully strode up her staircase towards the bedroom, her head full of the answers that Maura wanted – no, needed – Maura didn't care about the consequences of her actions. Just as Constance reached the very last step, Maura called out to her mother with a meek voice of trepidation.

"Mother, how do you know Patrick Doyle?"

**Review please?**


	3. Broken Illusions

A week had passed since Jane was given desk duty. She couldn't remember the last time she had gone into work and left when she was supposed to; usually, Jane would go in, there would be a case, all hell would break lose and she would be stuck at the office until all hours of the morning, only giving her body a rest in the break room for maybe any hour or two before anyone else showed up. Now, Jane mostly sorted through cold cases that were up to be reviewed again. Korsak and Frost worked steadily behind her on the Doyle case. That was the hardest part for Jane. The two of them were her only connection to Maura and knowing how Patrick Doyle was doing in the hospital – thus far, he had awoken, but hadn't said much. When she heard that he was out of ICU, Jane found herself halfway down the steps to autopsy. For days she had been trying to figure out when a good time to talk to Maura would be. Just when Jane would muck up some courage to make that dreadfully long trek downstairs, it left just as quickly as it came. She always turned back and sat at her desk, idly flipping through files with very little hope of finding something useful that she could use to solve the case. By the end of the week, Jane had very little hope that she would ever find a good chance to talk to Maura, and they would be at a permanent standstill for the rest of their lives.

That's why it surprised Jane to see Maura push through the bull pen's doors and head straight towards Cavanaugh's office. Butterflies – no, it was a team of very hyper active monkey's – jumped around her stomach. She watched Maura, almost as if she knew turning away would mean never looking at her best friend again. Maura was quick. She flitted past Jane's desk as fast as she could. Jane noticed she was holding her breath. Everything was different about Maura. Her outfit looked put together as flawlessly as usual, but her skin was paler and her makeup didn't pop out at Jane as it usually did. Her hair was pulled up into a pony-tail much like it was when Maura was leaning over a particularly gruesome body. She knocked on Cavanaugh's door very daintily, very Maura. Jane's heart leapt from her chest when she noticed Maura's head tilt, just slightly, the corner of her eye peeking straight in Jane's direction. Her head snapped back up when she saw Jane staring. Finally the door opened and Maura was gone.

"Hey," Jane whispered to Frost. He didn't hear her. "Hey!" she yelled, throwing her squishy stress ball at his head. He rubbed his temple and looked up at her.

"You know that thing isn't as soft as you think it is," he mumbled. "What?"

"Why is Maura here?"

"Maura is here?" he looked around. Jane slapped him on the back of the head.

"Not here, here. There. Cavanaugh's office."

Frost shrugged. "Probably something to do with the trial." Jane looked over to Korsak and nudged him.

"What are they saying?"

"Do I look like I can hear through walls?"

"Yeah Jane, c'mon. At Korsak's age, we're lucky if he hears what's said right in front of him." Frost joked.

"You'll be lucky if you make it to my age." growled Korsak.

"And I'll be lucky if you two ever learn to act your age." Jane watched though the window as Maura and Cavanaugh talked briefly. She didn't take a seat in front of his desk; there was a quick exchange, an even quicker handshake, and soon Maura had turned around and was opening the door. Again, she ignored Jane's eyes and walked straight past. Jane fidgeted in her seat. "It's not or never, Rizzoli. Hey, hey Maur-" she sprung from her seat and took off after Maura who was already waiting for the elevator. She called out her name once more. Maura hesitantly turned around. "Maura,"

"I really can't." Maura whispered. "Not right now."

"Maura, please." pleaded Jane. "Just talk to me." Maura looked up. It was very rare that Jane ever begged; it threw her off guard. She stared at her friend, their eyes both tired and red from the sleepless nights they both endured.

"I know you're sorry." she mumbled. "I know why you did what you did. I understand why you did what you did. What I don't understand," Maura faltered. When she finally composed herself, her voice shook. Jane didn't know if it was from anger or sadness. "What I don't understand is why it hurts so badly." She looked up at her friend, her eyes brimming with a new wave of tears; Maura knew she would run into Jane today. She knew she risked collapsing in front of her. But then and there, as she finally stood in front of her confronting all of the emotions that had plagued her for days, Maura wanted nothing but to run away. She bitterly swiped at the tears, sighing angrily and folding her arms tightly around her waist. "I hate you. I hate you so much, Jane." Jane flinched. "But you're the last thing on my mind every night. You're the first thing I think of." Maura laughed darkly. "When Patrick woke up, you were the first person I wanted to call. God," she turned around and pressed the down button several more times. Jane placed a tentative hand on Maura's shoulder, who shrugged it away.

"If we could just talk,"

"Dammit, Jane." she choked out. "You are my best friend."

"Just listen to me." Jane yelled. "For one second, just listen to what I have to say. I was wrong. I shouldn't have shot him, Maura. But dammit, Maura. You're wrong too."

Maura's mouth dropped. "Excuse me?"

"He isn't your father, Maura. He's the man who helped give you life, sure. But that man isn't you're father. I didn't shoot your father. You're angry at me, I get that. I shot someone that, for whatever reason, suddenly means a lot to you. But it isn't right or _fair _to treat me like I'm some sort of _criminal _for shooting Paddy. Not when there was a chance that he was taking a shot at Frost. Frost is my _partner. _I have a job to do. I thought you understood that."

Maura pettily stamped her foot on the ground. "He never would have shot Frost!"

"How do you know that?" Jane screamed back hoarsely. The bullpen doors sprang open and Frost and Korsak appeared behind Jane.

"Because he is my father. I have his DNA. I never would have done that. He knows Frost is my friend."

"No, Maura. He is your sperm donor. You are nothing like him. You're not a murderer. You're not a thief. You're not a criminal. For someone who prides herself on intellect you're acting pretty stupid." Jane wasn't sure when it had happened, but at some point the two had become face to face, inches from each other, Maura just slightly shorter than Jane. She stepped back from the detective. Jane, realizing what she said, covered her mouth and shook her head. "Okay," Jane mumbled. "Okay. We're getting too angry. I'm," she paused. "I'm getting too angry." Jane reached forward and grabbed Maura's hand. The M.E attempted to shrug away, but Jane only held on tighter. "I'm sorry." she said. Jane brought her other hand up and nudged Maura's cheek so the two were looking at each other. "Listen to me. I'm _sorry."_

"Jane," Maura's voice cracked. "I'm not sure when sorry is going to be enough."

"I used to hate you, remember?" One last chance, Jane thought. "You didn't tell me about Tommy. I was angry. I got mad. I was wrong," Maura looked up from staring at the floor. "I hate knowing that you hate me. Just tell me you won't hate me forever," Maura was quiet. "Just tell me you'll be done hating me, and I'll leave you alone. And you know how hard that would be for me. I'm my mother's daughter," she joked. Maura's lips toward up just slightly, giving Jane a small sense of triumph. She didn't answer though. The elevator doors slid open and Maura slipped inside, pressing her body as flat as she could against the farthest wall. She looked up and met Jane's eyes once more. Just as the doors were closing, Maura leapt forward and stopped them with her hand.

"I'll let you know." she said quietly. With a small smile, Maura stepped back into the elevator and let the doors close, leaving Jane standing on the other side. The detective turned around and noticed Korsak and Frost for the first time.

"Don't you two have something better to do, huh?" she snapped.

* * *

><p>Maura found herself wandering the streets of Boston after she left the department. The world had never quite made such little sense to her; as Jane stood there before her, so poignant and her eyes so uncharacteristically revealing, Maura found herself counting in her head all the times that Jane had become so enraged with her. There were very few. Maura had to admit that during her friendship with Jane, although they occasionally quarreled, it was relatively undramatic. And Maura also had to admit that Jane did seem genuinely sorry for her actions. Not that she needed to be, Maura found herself thinking. She knew, as a reasonable person, that Jane was only being Jane. And wasn't that exactly what Maura loved most about her best friend?<p>

The young doctor crossed the street and mingled among the other pedestrians, secretly observing their every action. It was what Maura enjoyed most. For most of her life, she was both unequivocally intrigued and petrified of her fellow human beings. It brought her a great source of anxiety, because as terrified of her peers and other people as she was, she also found it utterly fascinating to watch people interact. It left Maura with anxieties that not even she could cure with the text from a book. So finally she compromised with herself. Maura realized that she didn't have to interact with people in order to observe them, and the petite young blonde often lounged freely in coffee shops and malls, eyes flickering from person to person. Occasionally, she would jot down notes – not on paper or on a computer, but in her head. Because if there was one thing Maura wanted to learn, it was how to be human. It was how to feel, how to care, how to live.

And Maura knew that it was Jane who was finally teaching her that lesson on life. Jane was her textbook. Jane was her teacher, and the detective didn't even know it. Jane didn't realize just how much she meant to Maura, and Maura never quite realized how much either. Not until now. Not until today. She always cared for Jane. She's always loved Jane. But Maura knew, mostly because of the few years she and Jane had been friends, that the feelings she felt for her friend were far more than the platonic, sisterly feelings that Maura knew she should feel. Her mind always somehow managed to venture into very private, unfathomable areas that before Maura only had experienced with the likes of Garrett or Ian. And while Jane stood before her just minutes ago, nostrils flared in anger and eyes frozen in a glassy, pleading stare, Maura felt that tug in her stomach and the unsatisfiable urge to lean forward and kiss her partner square on the mouth. It was something she had resisted doing on several occasions.

Maura tucked a stray hair behind her ear and stopped in the crowd, causing a few people behind her to cast her dirty looks as they slipped carefully by her side. Though normally she would have apologized rather profusely, Maura merely stumbled backwards and sat herself down on the empty bench. Around her people filed by, seemingly unaware that Maura was watching them. A couple across the street held hands. The girl was very tall with soft blonde curls that framed her face. She leaned into her partner's shoulder, a laugh floating up from her lips and tangling itself with the breeze. He laughed too and looked down at her, his eyes – a color Maura couldn't tell from so far away – unwavering in her direction. He cracked a joke, her lips turned upwards once more. They kissed. Maura sighed and turned her head again, this time two women caught her attention. Best friends, surely, Maura thought. The two were enjoying a meal at the bistro just across the street, one of which Jane and Maura had gone to on several occasions. They were talking nonchalantly. In her head, Maura made up the conversation. Work, school, friends, family – all the things that two people talked about. Her eyes flitted back to the couple who were much further down on the walk now, and then back to the friends, and then back to the couple.

She sighed. "Jane," Maura muttered angrily. "What are you doing to me?"

* * *

><p>The first thing that Jane did as she shut her apartment door was chuck her phone across the room and onto the couch.<p>

"Damn thing," she growled, kicking off her shoes and sending them soaring in the same direction. Jo Friday barked disapprovingly and Jane couldn't help but think that maybe the dog had been spending a bit too much time with her M.E best friend. Maura would have disapproved as well. She flicked on a light and headed straight for the kitchen, her hands searching desperately for a cold beer out of the fridge. "None left," Jane sighed sadly. She looked at Jo. "Life is easier when Maur does the shopping, right Jo?" Instead she grabbed a soda and took one long swig. It burned her throat. She hadn't drank anything all day. She hadn't eaten anything either, and with a hard look at the soda and then a long stare at the fridge, Jane grabbed the loaf of bread and began making a sandwich.

"Hope you don't mind," Jane whirled around and stared into the darkness of her apartment, the knife wielded in her hand. From the shadows came the grizzly frame of Patrick Doyle, a quaint limp to his walk. "Took the last beer. You have good taste," he nodded to her, finally coming out where she could fully appreciate his appearance.

Jane didn't miss a beat. Her hand was on her loaded gun still strapped to her side while the other held the knife firmly pointed at Doyle. "How the hell did you get in here?" she cast a look at the windows and doors before settling back at her best friends father. "How did you get out of the hospital?"

"Even guards have to take a piss now and then," he smiled.

"You were handcuffed to the bed."

"Jane," he said tiredly. "Can we just skip the formalities and get to why I'm here?"

"Uh, no." Jane snapped. "No, Patrick, it doesn't work like that. Have you ever followed the rules, even once in your life?"

"I was born to a different set of rules. And you can take your hand off your gun," he pointed at her side and smiled. "Unless you want to shoot me again." Patrick spread out his arms. "Go ahead, shoot me. Stab me with that butter knife, there. I have to say, Detective. My feelings were a little hurt the first time. But," he shrugged and brought in one hand again, taking a short sip of Jane's last beer. "I understand. For the record, I never would have shot your partner."

"You shot Gabriel."

"He deserved it."

"Because he shot you?"

"Because he wasn't there to defend my daughter," Doyle said lightly. "He was there for his career."

"Aren't we all?"

Patrick smiled. "Not you," he muttered. "No, not you Jane. You're all heart. You're not about the badge."

"I really wish people would stop telling me what I am. It's annoying. It pisses me off. And you know, you probably shouldn't piss off the person with a gun."

"Of course."

"Why are you here, Paddy?"

"I need you to get a message to Maura."

"Why not just go there? You've done it before. She probably wants to see you,"

"I was smart enough to escape the hospital. They were dumb enough to leave me unguarded. They aren't dumb enough, however, not to go straight to my daughter's home and check for me there first. I know they're feds, Jane, but please. Give them a little credit." Even Jane had to smile at that one, but she quickly covered it up. "They would never think to come to you, though. Why would I go to the home of the person that shot me?"

"Fine. Tell me the message on the way down to the department." She flashed the handcuffs and moved towards Paddy. He stepped back, albeit clumsily, and held up one hand.

"Please," Jane paused. She wasn't afraid of Patrick. Not in the slightest. If there was one thing she knew, it was that Patrick would never hurt her. Jane knew enough to know that Maura still cared for her, even if she hated her. Patrick would never do that to his daughter. Jane conceded and stepped back, leaning up against her kitchen counter. She nodded at him to continue. "It's about her mother."

"You got a name?"

Patrick hesitated. "Hope."

"I need a little bit more to go on."

"When I knew her, she was Hope Burke. She was eighteen years old. I don't know where she's living now. I don't know if she has a family, friends... a husband," he said the latter rather begrudgingly. "She could have kids. We parted ways so she could stay safe. I regret that I couldn't keep her safe and keep her near me," Paddy rubbed his eyes. "Maybe we could have kept Maura, maybe-"

"I don't care about your maybes. You didn't raise her. She may have your DNA, but Maura isn't yours. She's nothing like you."

"You're right." he said coldly. "She's like her mother."

"Like the mother that gave her up,"

"Like the mother that gave her the life she has now!"

"She didn't _give _Maura that life! Everything Maura has, she has made it for herself. You know nothing about Maura. Let me ask you something, Paddy. If Colin hadn't ended up on Maura's table, would you be standing here right now? Would you have come and told Maura who you were? Would you have even bothered?" Paddy frowned. "Yeah. Yeah, that. Right there. You came in here and turned her world upside down. You made her question everything about what she knows about _herself. _And she has been consoling herself by saying you're here because you love her, because you're trying to protect her."

"I _am _trying to protect her-" he growled.

"Maybe you are. But don't you ever, ever going tell her that you never would have shown up if it weren't for Colin being killed. You may have been there at her graduations and her recitals and whatever the hell else, but that isn't Maura. None of that defines Maura. You tell her that, you'll break her even more than she has already been broken." Jane stepped up and stared straight into his eyes. "And I promise, you do that, I'll shoot to kill."

"I admire you, Jane. You're smart. Tough." Paddy grimaced and held his chest, right where Jane knew she shot him. "A good shot. You've protected Maura in ways that I can't." He began hobbling towards the door. "Please, just tell her her mother's name."

"Maura isn't talking to me."

He paused. "Why?"

"Because apparently you mean something to her."

"It won't last."

"What won't?"

"Her not talking to you."

"You don't know that," Jane said as forcefully as she could. "You don't know-"

"-anything about Maura. Yeah, I got it." he rolled his eyes. "I don't need to know anything about Maura to know that her not talking to you isn't going to last. I've seen the way she looks at you."

Jane snorted. "The way she looks at me?"

"Yeah," he said. "It's the same way I used to look at Hope." Paddy turned and had one hand on the doorknob before Jane could finally respond.

"I can't just let you walk out of here, Paddy."

"I know you can't. But you will," Jane stared back. "You're all heart, Rizzoli." And with that, Patrick Doyle walked out of Jane's apartment, leaving her with nothing but the darkness to console her.

* * *

><p><strong>Let me know what you think? <strong>


	4. Badge of the Heart

Jane fell back onto her couch and stared open mouthed at the ceiling. Her heart had fallen somewhere into the pit of her stomach; once again she was left with too few options and not enough positive outcomes. She could still smell Paddy Doyle's cologne wafting through the air in her apartment. It almost made it hard to breathe, not because it was strong or smelled badly, but because it was a reminder of a conversation Jane wished she could forget altogether. Above all, it left a bad taste in her mouth. She wasn't sure what Paddy's last few words had

_It's the same way I used to look at Hope._

She inwardly groaned and stuffed her face in a pillow. Whatever that meant, it wasn't as important as what Jane had to figure out now. She had Maura's mothers name, something Maura had been desperately seeking for longer than Jane had even known the medical examiner. Jo Friday jumped smoothly into her owners lap, tongue out and panting, then stared expectantly up to her as if ready and willing to be the other half of a conversation Jane needed.

"I could go to Maura's right now and tell her about Paddy and her mother," Jane spoke, rather indirectly towards her dog. "I promised I would leave her alone, so that could make her mad. Or," she cocked her head to the side just like Jo did to her. "I don't tell her about Paddy or her mother and wait for her to come to me." Her head bobbed to the other side now. "Of course she could get mad at me for withholding that information from her." Jo gave a tiny bark and buried her head into Jane's stomach. She scratched the little dogs ear. "Yeah, I want to hide too." A pounding on her apartment door woke Jane from the lull she had lapsed into. The dog leapt from her lap and took straight off to her bedroom. Out of sheer instinct, Jane reached to the drawer that held her gun. She barely had time to wrap her hand around when she heard Frankie Jr's yelling through the hard wood of her apartment door. His fist pounded against it thrice more by the time Jane yanked it open.

"Turn on your television," he said hurriedly, pushing past his older sister and knocking her off balance. Jane stumbled backwards and caught herself just in time.

"Ouch!" she rubbed her elbow. "What the hell are you doing?" Jane asked.

Frankie had the remote firmly in his grip and was flipping through channels. "You didn't hear? It's all over the damn place, Janie." He finally settled on a news station. Scrolling across the bottom page was Patrick Doyle's name, above it a picture that Jane had seen all too many times in his many case files. "He's out, Jane. He got out. Look, protection detail is going to be up on this place twenty-four seven."

"Frankie-"

"-he's pro'lly gonna want revenge or somethin'," he muttered.

"Frank, I already knew he was out. He was here." Frankie turned around and stared at his sister incredulously. Jane held her hands up, as if surrendering. "Don't shoot the messenger. Doyle didn't."

"He was here." he said matter-of-factly.

"You missed him by 'bout ten minutes."

"And you didn't call the cops?"

Jane held her hand up to her ear as if it were a faux telephone. "Hello, Lieutenant Cavanaugh? I'm standing in my living room right now with Patrick Doyle. Don't worry, he hasn't shot me or anything. I just wanted to let you know as I'm standing right in front of him and he can hear every word of this conversation. See you in a few minutes." She smacked Frankie upside the head. "Brilliant."

"So what happened?"

"He was here when I got home." Jane said tiredly. "Wanted to talk."

"Talk."

"Yeah."

"What, about the weather?"

Jane rubbed her temples. A dull throb was beginning to develop. "He's not gonna hurt me, Frankie. We talked and he's gone. I wasn't about to shoot him again."

"Did you think about, oh, I don't know, telling someone? Do you have any idea where he went?"

"No," Jane said bluntly.

"No."

"What, you gonna just repeat everything I say?" she snapped. Jane was aching for that beer even more now than she was before. "He wanted to talk to me about Maura's mom. I couldn't turn him away, Frankie. Couldn't do that to Maura." She rubbed her eyes and sat back down on the sofa. "Now I just gotta figure out how to tell her about her mother."

"You got a name?"

Jane nodded. "Hope."

"You could do a background check," he shrugged. "Try and figure out an address or somethin'. You sure he's not gonna hurt you?"

"He was here because he loves Maura and wants to make her happy. He's not going to shoot me." Jane kicked her feet up on the coffee table and sighed. "Doesn't matter how many times I shoot him," a small chuckle formed at the back of her throat but she swallowed it back down. "You gonna call it in? Tell Cavanaugh that he was here?"

"Are you?"

She looked over at Frankie, a small yet sincere smile spread across her thin lips. "What's more important, Frank? The badge or yourself?"

"Hey," he nudged her playfully. "You're the older and wiser detective."

"I'm serious," she said thoughtfully. "How do we choose between right and wrong when both options are right and wrong? I should tell Cavanaugh. Protocol would be telling Cavanaugh before anyone else. Not you, not Maura. But Maura should know. Not tellin' Maura before Cavanaugh is like breaking some other protocol."

In his best valley girl voice, Frankie swatted Jane on the shoulder. "The BFF code."

"Shut up," Jane punched him straight on the shoulder. "Doyle said that I was all heart."

"Is that so bad?"

"It's not good for the job," Jane said plainly. "Not good for the people I have to protect. I was doing my job when I shot Doyle."

Frankie turned roughly to Jane and placed both of his hands on her shoulders. "You need to get over this, Jane. You gotta stop beating yourself up. You were doing your job and you know that. You've been moping around like some lost puppy for the past few weeks and it's actually pathetic. Maura," he pulled back a little as if he were stopping himself from saying what he truly wanted to say. When he recomposed himself, he turned back to Jane. "She'll get over it. If she doesn't, that's her problem. I get that you two are so close, but God damn, Janie." he stood up and instead looked down at her, making Jane feel very small. "You're a cop. You've got the walk, you've got the talk. You've got the _heart. _It doesn't have to be one or the other. Your heart is what makes you the best damn detective in Boston. This heart," he pointed directly at her chest. "-makes you who you are. But this," he threw his arms around and pointed at the dirty dishes in the sink, the open door to Jane's bedroom where you could see clothes strewn carelessly about on the floor, and the stack of magazines spread unceremoniously across the coffee table. "-isn't you. This brooding, pissed off, depressed Jane. Nah, not even Jane. You lost your name. You've lost your fire. My sister would never be workin' behind a _desk _without a damn good fight." Jane leaned forward to protest but Frankie cut her off. "And she sure as hell wouldn't be sitting here waiting for Maura to come around. She'd be breaking down her door. Your heart here isn't the problem. It's your thick head." He bent down and pulled Jane up by the arms. "Now get up off your ass and drive over to doc's house and tell her what you need to tell her. That's what your heart is telling you to do, isn't it?"

"You're an okay brother," Jane muttered sheepishly.

Frankie grinned. "Better than Tommy?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself." she ruffled his hair, grabbed her jacket off the hook and headed down to her car.

* * *

><p>Maura was vaguely aware of her surroundings when she woke up to her doorbell ringing throughout her house. She groggily sat up in her head, barely registering what she was wearing as she stumbled down the stairs. At some point she fell asleep, her mind clouded with thoughts of Jane, their relationship and the many feelings Maura found bubbling somewhere deep inside her. It hadn't been very late when she arrived back at her large and empty house, but the overwhelming emotional realizations had exhausted her far beyond a point that she had ever truly felt before. Constance had been uncharacteristically quiet since their conversation about Maura's biological mother and spent much of her time in the guest house with Angela, which both relieved and worried Maura. Constance was very mum on the subject of anything to do with Maura's parentage and had even gone so far as to threaten leaving if Maura brought it up again. She dropped the subject, albeit hastily, and the two had been tense ever since.<p>

Though normally Maura would stand on her toes and look through the peep hole to see who was outside, she found herself so mentally and physically exhausted – from doing nothing in particular, really – that she opened the door without any thought. Seeing Jane standing before her, a very nervous expression spread across her face, woke her up a bit more quickly than she would have liked. Swaying on the spot, Maura grappled with her brain in order to find something to say. Finally it was Jane that spoke.

"I know you don't want to see me," she said hurriedly. "I know that. I know I promised. But," she frowned. "Did you just wake up?" Jane asked exasperatedly.

Begrudgingly, Maura nodded. "Yes."

"Can I come in?"

She hesitated for just a moment before nodding her head and giving Jane enough room to squeeze in. The two stood in the foyer, each with concerns etched into every line of their face. "Why are you here?" There was a slight twinge in Maura's voice that she regretted immediately. She hadn't meant for the sentence to come out so brash and she physically flinched when she saw the look cross Jane's face.

"Have you been watching the news?"

"I've been asleep."

"Paddy got out,"

Maura's body tensed. "Excuse me?"

"He escaped. From the hospital." Jane watched Maura carefully. She could barely read her body language and didn't know if she should keep going with everything else she knew. Maura walked away from Jane and watched her friend sink into the plush cushions of the couch, one single hand brought up to her face. "Maur," she said hoarsely. "He, uh." Maura looked up at Jane. "He came to my place. I saw him. Talked to him,"

"You what?"

"Hope Burke. That's your mother's name. Doyle told me."

"Did you arrest him?"

"No," Jane said softly. "He's gone. I don't know where he went."

"You let him go?"

"Well I wasn't going to shoot him twice."

Maura looked up hopefully. "Did he say anything else?" Jane swallowed hard. Patrick had said a lot more, but none of which she was willing – or ready – to tell Maura. She hadn't even made sense of it herself. So Jane shook her head, hoping that she was convincing enough for Maura to at least let that part of the conversation die down. Whether it had to do with the churning wheels in Maura's head processing the name of her mother or simply because Maura didn't have the energy to press further, she mimicked Jane's nodding and relaxed back into her seat. Jane stood to the side awkwardly, still unsure if her presence was harming her chances with Maura or helping their friendship glue back together. She swiped a finger against her shirt, more out of boredom than grooming, and cleared her throat.

"You okay?"

"Mmm," hummed Maura. "I just can't believe I have a name."

"I can find her if you want," Jane offered.

Maura's stared at Jane, her eyes mixed with confusion and surprise. "You would do that after how I've treated you?"

"I know how much this means to you, Maur." Maura's shoulders sagged a little. The answer bothered her, even if just slightly. It wasn't what she had hoped to here. Jane seemed to pick up on it and followed through with her answer. Seizing whatever courage she had left, Jane leaned forward and placed her hand on Maura's shoulder. "You're my best friend. I've treated you like shit before. It was your turn."

The corners of Maura's lips turned up. "Language, Jane." she said playfully. The hard casing that had grown over Jane's heart the past few days shattered and she sat herself down next to Maura. "I'm sorry, Jane."

"I'm sorry too."

For a moment, the two stared at each other. Neither were very aware that they were staring, because each were too lost in their own thoughts. Not until Bass knocked a cupboard in the kitchen did either woman pull themselves together. Maura even found herself blushing, though she wasn't sure why. She felt Jane's hand slip onto her own and squeeze tightly. Everything, as sordid and messy at it had been, seemed unbelievably normal. A giggle erupted from Maura's mouth and Jane turned to look. She too began laughing, and soon the pair was doubled over on the couch with small tears forming at the corner of their eyes. They ended, both collapsed on the couch with their heads knocked together, their hands still clasped by the fingers.

"Tell me when and I'll start looking for her." Jane muttered into the silence.

Maura turned her head enough so she was eye level with Jane. "Now," she whispered.

* * *

><p><strong>Did you know that every time you don't review a leprechaun steals candy from a baby? Save a baby. Review today.<strong>


	5. Chitty Chatty Bang Bang

Jane stared blankly at her computer screen. It had been hours since anyone had been at the department but her; outside, the sky was even darker than usual, a heavy rain pounding down on the Boston streets. Midnight had past long ago and Jane, tired both emotionally and physically, had barely budged in the hours since. She sat hunched over at her desk flicking through internet web search after internet web search hoping she could locate Maura's mother with relative ease. Jane also hoped she could find her without having to use her badge, but as the hours dwelled on and Jane ran out of pay-to-search websites, she succumb to pulling up the database the police department kept. It wasn't that what she was doing was illegal. Jane was within her right to search a name in the system. Mostly Jane had wanted to avoid using her job for something that had to do with Maura and her family. She felt that her job had done well enough already.

She really hadn't realized how difficult it would be to find one person. Not that she didn't think it would be a challenge. Patrick Doyle gave her the name without expecting anything in return. That alone made Jane's gut twinge. Doyle left Maura's mother and had Maura put up for adoption to insure both Maura's protection and her biological mothers. After 32 years, you don't just stop caring and give it all up. If anything, Maura was in more danger now than ever – everyone knew that the doctor was Patrick Doyle's daughter and if Maura did find her mother and somehow word got out – which, it seemed, word always did find a way to get out – Hope would be in as much danger as her daughter. Would Patrick really put Hope at risk when he was already wholly aware of the danger he has put his daughter in?

The computer had been searching through names for two hours now. Jane put in every variation of Hope's name as she could. Hope Burke, Hope Burk, Hope Beurke, Hope Boorke. For a while she wondered if she had misheard Patrick and had the wrong last name entirely, but deep inside she knew she heard it right. Jane brushed a strand of her dark, curly brown hair behind her ear and let out a long, exasperated sigh. Something was telling her to give up for the night. Something was telling her to stay. She closed her eyes and leaned back, kicking her legs up on the desk, hoping the new position would provide her some comfort. The clock, which Jane had been steadfast in ignoring, ticked in the background. Jane's foot tapped in time with it. Soon, her eyes became cloudy and she fell into a light sleep.

* * *

><p>"Rizzoli!" Jane felt something smack against her forehead, Her chair tipped back and, and as gracefully as one could when flailing their arms to regain balance, she lunged her body forward to feel solid ground beneath her feet. Frost and Korsak were standing in front of her, childish grins painted across each of their faces. Jane growled and wiped her face, a thick layer of droll at the corner of her mouth. "You been here all night?" chuckled Frost, setting his coffee cup down on his desk. Jane reached over and grabbed it before he could react and took a long sip.<p>

She grimaced. "Damn, Frost." Jane coughed, the strength of the coffee overwhelming her. "You drink your coffee black?"

"It's how I'm so perky all the time." he joked. Behind him, Korsak rolled his eyes. Jane ignored them both and wiped her mouth on her shirt. The sharp taste of coffee had stained her tongue. She yanked open her drawer and removed the night bag that she kept for things like this; inside was a spare toothbrush, toothpaste, a change of clothes and, naturally, a box of emergency _I really need chocolate because this has been a really shitty night _chocolate. Just as she stood to go to the bathroom, Korsak yelled out her name. Jane turned back, still not fully awake.

"You got a hit."

"What?" Jane said, confused.

"Your computer. You got a hit," he pointed towards the screen. Jane dropped the bag and ran over to her desk, shaking the mouse even though the screen was already alert. Sure enough, her search result was flashing red. Her hand shook as she scrolled over to open the file. When it finally loaded (tantalizingly slow) Jane's mouth dropped.

"Holy," she paused. "Shit."

"What case is that?"

Jane quickly hit save and closed out the program. Grabbing her cell phone and her keys, she turned and pointed directly at Korsak. "Not a word," she warned. "To anyone."

"Not a word about what?" he shouted as Jane ran from the bull pen.

* * *

><p>"Dr Isles, care to comment on your father's escape from custody at Boston Memorial?" Maura ducked back as a microphone was shoved aggressively in front of her face. She had expected this; the media fanfare, the questions, her own face plastered on news stations and in news papers. It didn't stop her from being surprised, though, and as she pushed through the hoards of reporters and journalists to make her way into the department she couldn't stop the few tears that streaked down her cheeks. Korsak met her half way, his strong arm looping through her own and leading her into the building. She wished it had been Jane's arm. Though she felt very safe with Korsak, she couldn't help but love when Jane defended her throughout anything. She could hear Jane's raspy voice cursing out the reporters, an annoyed, yet soft expression crossing her features. Korsak was very quiet and used his intimidating appearance rather than his voice; Maura knew that it only made sense that Jane was so mouthy, not just because she was her mother's daughter, but also because she was a woman in the job so many look at as a "man's job". Korsak didn't have to say anything for people to show him respect.<p>

When the door had closed behind them and the noise from the crowd quieted, Korsak turned to Maura. "Sorry I didn't get out there in time," he jabbed his thick thumb at the elevator button, giving a nod to the guard on duty. It was earlier than usual and the room was surprisingly clear. Two officers stood off to the side, their arms crossed and a grim expression on their face. A woman sat off to the side reading a newspaper. "Didn't think you were coming in for another hour."

"I decided to come in early." Maura said hastily. "There are a lot of people out there." She looked at the crowd. It wasn't thinning, but their voices were muffled and far away. Bright flashes from digital cameras and red lights from camcorders blinded her. Maura turned away and smiled at Korsak. "Thank you for the help."

"Thank you for making up with Jane." he smiled. "She's a crab ass to work with when she's moody."

"How did you know we made up?"

"Saw her this morning," he shrugged. "Looked like she hadn't been up crying all night for once. Just looked tired as hell. Must've been here all night."

"She left my apartment rather early in the evening." said Maura, puzzled. "She must have come back here to-" she paused and bit her lip.

"You ask her to work on something? She ran out of here like a bat outta hell earlier." This intrigued Maura and she looked up. Korsak, realizing he had nearly just gone against Jane's explicit directions, hit the elevator button three more times.

Maura tried to curb her enthusiasm as much as she could. "Vince, did Jane find something?"

He didn't get the chance to answer. Maura felt it before hearing it; the room vibrated, her knees shook and suddenly she felt all of Vince's weight crashing down onto her. In one moment her world was moving in slow motion. Glass shards tinkered slowly against the cold floor, the clear crystals shimmering in the morning sunlight casting shadows all around them. There were screams. Maura recognized the sound of mass panic, having heard it one too many times before. Time seemed to speed up causing Maura's head to spin. Korsak rolled off to the side and yelled something at her, something she didn't understand, something she couldn't understand because her head was filled with clouds of smoke. Her vision blurred as she scooted as far back as she could. The elevator door had finally opened and she rolled her aching body inside its walls. Vince had his gun pointed towards the crowd, his eyes darting in every direction. The two officers and security guard were by his side. Breathing heavily, Maura brought a hand to her face and felt the oozing, sticky texture of blood. It should have panicked her but if anything it only had heart heart pumping faster, the adrenaline surging through her veins. She fumbled clumsily for her phone but soon realized that it was tucked in her purse. The purse had been thrown to the side at some point.

_Jane, _thought Maura.

* * *

><p>"Jane, wha-" Angela stumbled backwards as Jane barreled through the guest house door. Constance was exactly where Jane knew she could find her; lounging on the sofa, an air of regality to her pose. She stared back at Jane with wild surprise. Maura talked at length about how her mother had been avoiding her since their brief conversation. Never would Jane have imagined her mother and Maura's mother so chummy. Two glasses of early morning juice sat on the coffee table and the television was turned on the news. Jane reached down, pressed the off button with one swift movement and turned back to facing Mrs. Isles. "Shouldn't you be at work?"<p>

"Ma," seethed Jane. "Could you give Constance and I a few minutes?"

"Well, I..." Angela faltered. "I guess. I'll just go make some breakfast. Eggs, Jane?"

Jane's face hardened, her eyes narrowing at Constance. "I'm not staying." Angela turned back and gave one last fleeting look at her daughter and friend. When the door had swung shut, Constance spoke.

"Is something the matter, Jane?" she asked honestly. "Is everything okay with Maura?"

"Is everything okay with-" began Jane. "Are you kidding me right now? You know what's been going on. You _know _she knows about Patrick." She saw Constance flinch, although subtly. "And you knew about Patrick too, didn't you. You've known his name all this time." All it took was one twitch of the lip and Jane had her answer. Constance's shoulders sagged and she folded her hands politely in her lap. She still had small cuts here and there on her face, down her arms... her hands, usually so perfectly well attended and manicured, looked rough and scarred from when she hit the pavement. Jane looked at the face of a broken woman, both inside and out. Constance sighed heavily.

"How much does she know?"

"She doesn't know anything." Constance looked hopeful. "Yet." Jane added, soaking in Constance's downtrodden expression. A fire burned inside Jane that she hadn't felt in a long time. Everything about Constance made her angry. If this had her going, she couldn't bare to tell Maura just yet. Not until she was composed herself. "You have known _all _along. You could have _told _her! You could have given her answers!"

"I couldn't, Jane!"

"God!" Jane spun around grasping at her hair and tugging. "God," she said again, this time through gritted teeth. "Do you even realize how bad it's been for her? Not knowing? And then finding out Patrick Doyle was her father? You couldn't have given her a heads up? Oh that's right, you were too damn busy with your parties and your artwork and all the things that were more important than your _daughter." _

"I love Maura." said Constance firmly. "Make no mistake-"

"You would know a lot about mistakes, wouldn't you, Constance?"

"If you'd give me a moment to explain-"

"You've had thirty-two years to explain to Maura who she was. Thirty-two years."

"I couldn't."

"No, you wouldn't."

"You don't understand."

"That's a bunch of bull." shouted Jane. "What don't I understand? That you lied to her for her entire life. How could you look at her every day and not say something. Tell me, Constance. How could you not tell her who you were?"

* * *

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**Love you guys haha Hope you enjoyed the chapter.**


	6. Liar Liar

"I love Maura." A tear slid down Constance's cheek. "So much. I have loved her since the day I held her in my arms and I'll love her for as long as I live. I have so many regrets." She closed her eyes and rubbed them tiredly. The air in the room had become incredibly thin; Jane's temper had simmered but she still felt that unshakeable urge to hit or kick something. She watched Constance carefully. The woman was genuinely shaken, but Jane wasn't sure if it was from her own anger or from Constance's emotional baggage that she was sure the older woman had been carrying around for many years. Jane took a seat across from her and waited. She wondered if Angela was standing behind the door listening to their every word. "Have you spoken with her?"

Jane shook her head curtly. "I came straight here." The room lapsed into another silence. Constance buried her head in her hands.

"I never wanted children." she said quietly. "Never. The only thought I ever had regarding children was that I would never put a child through what I went through. The pain of parents who had fallen out of love, the harsh reality of infidelity... I couldn't do that to a child."

"And Maura?"

Constance smiled sadly. "She was a beautiful baby. I know all parents say that but oh," she sighed. "Maura was gorgeous. She had these thick tuffs of golden brown hair, even as a newborn. Big round brown eyes. Lopsided grin. You know, she very rarely frowned when she was a baby. Hardly cried. She was so innocent. Everything interested her. She just wanted to explore and know everything. She was so small," she laughed. "But boy, she had such a big thirst for knowledge." Her smile faded. "I didn't know how to love her or be a mother. I didn't know what it meant to be a mother. I tried my best, Jane. I did." Her eyes veered off to the side.

"What did you lie?" Jane said flatly.

"I really don't think it's any of your business." Constance stood and walked to the kitchen, pouring herself a fresh glass of juice but still not taking a sip. With great verbal restraint, Jane stood and walked over to the older woman. As kindly as she could Jane rested her hands on the countertop and said,

"It is my business. Maura is my best friend."

"And you think you're helping her?" Constance said, aghast. "You really think you're doing her a favor in meddling with things that will serve no real greater purpose? You think she would be better off knowing the truth?"

"I do." Jane said firmly.

"I have never lied to Maura out of vengeance or malice. I have only done what I felt was best for her, for her well being-"

"Don't give me that bull crap, Constance."

"Do not use that tone with me, Detective."

"Now we're all formal?" Jane snapped. "I missed the memo, Mrs. Isles."

There was a long stare between the two woman, an nonverbal conversation spoken only through their malevolent glares. Constance moved to pick up her juice but Jane slid her hand across the counter, holding it in her grip before Constance could lift the china to her lips. "It would not be good for her." said Constance. "It wouldn't do any good. It wouldn't give Maura any sort of closure or knowledge or acceptance or anything that you think it would give her. She doesn't need to know."

"You're selfish, you know that?" said Jane spitefully. "You've built your entire life on the foundation of a lie. Not just yours, hers. Your daughters. You have watched her suffer, watched her go through pain. Or maybe you haven't. Maybe you just ignored it. Was it easier for you, Constance? To ignore it? Ship or off to boarding school and hope that maybe one day she just forgets that she doesn't know who she is? That she wanted to know where she came from? Who she came from? You didn't think that Maura deserves that?"

"Maura deserves the world and that was what I gave her!" shouted Constance.

"You gave her a lie and giving someone a lie is as good as giving them nothing." Jane said hoarsely.

"I was protecting her."

"From what? Because from the way I see it, the only one Maura needed protecting from was you."

"You really think I'm a horrible person?"

"No, Constance. I think you've made mistakes. The fact that you won't fess up to them is what I have a problem with."

"It's for her own good." An angry tear slid down her face. "Dammit." She slammed her hand down on the counter. Jane took a step back to give them both breathing space. "Maura knows who she is. She's accomplished, beautiful, has wonderful friends-" Constance paused to look at Jane. "She is a wonderful girl. Why should I disrupt her life now?"

"You're right. Maura is accomplished and beautiful and wonderful and smart," she picked up the glass of juice, looked at it, then looked at Constance. She stretched her arm and handed it to the woman. Constance accepted it apprehensively. "But she deserves the truth. She deserves to know."

After a long silence, Constance walked away from Jane and took a seat on the sofa again. Jane wasn't sure if she should follow or stay standing where she was; clearly she had crossed more boundaries in the twenty minutes she had been at Maura's than probably her entire life. Finally after a very long sigh, Constance waved her hand over her shoulder, signaling Jane. "Sit, then. Do you want to know or not?"

* * *

><p>Jane had few expectations as she drove back to the department. Her main goal – in fact, her <em>only <em>goal – for the day was to try her damned hardest not to say anything to Maura that she would later regret. Her conversation with Constance had been wrought with angry gestures on Jane's half and frustrated, embarrassed tears on part of Constance. If anything, Jane was only proud of herself that she didn't lose her temper. She had never quite felt so angry at Constance. What Jane didn't expect when she pulled up the street was the fire engines, police cars and ambulances crowded in solidarity in front of the building. She slammed on her breaks and pulled messily to the side of the road, the tail end of her car protruding obnoxiously into traffic. A thin line of police tape was wrapped around the front of the building while barricades, the plastic orange ones provided by her very own precinct, blocked the road off to oncoming traffic. She could see many of her comrades, whether they be members of her own department or rookies, littering the streets. A few pedestrians were sitting at the edge of ambulances.

"What the hell-" muttered Jane as she hopped over a barricade. She slid the hair tie that was on her wrist through her hair, pulling the strands to make it tighter. Frost found Jane before Jane found him; he seemed nervous, his eyes flicking from side to side as if waiting for Jane to spot something. When the two finally met in the middle of the commotion, he was the first to speak, his breath rushed and heavy as if afraid letting Jane get in the first word would be their ultimate downfall.

"You need to come inside."

A sharp tingle jetted up her spine. She followed him, certain the only reason her legs were moving forward was out of dedication to her duty as a detective. Jane and Frost barely made it up the front steps before something caught the female detective's eye; sitting on the edge of one of the ambulances, Maura Isles was being attended to by a dark haired paramedic. Turning violently on the spot, causing even Frost a mild case of whip lash, Jane ran over to her friend. Maura looked up immediately, the sound of quick footsteps bringing her to attention. "I'm fine," Maura insisted before Jane could speak.

"Yeah you look great," said Jane, eyeing the small cut just above Maura's eyebrow and the already forming purple bruise on the doctor's left arm. Maura's skirt, one that Jane hadn't seen before so she was sure it was new, had a slight rip on the bottom and her silk shirt was snagged. "We should go to a party or something."

"Jane," sighed Maura.

"What the hell happened here?" demanded Jane, turning to Frost.

Frost hesitated. "There was a shooting,"

"A shoo-" she turned back to Maura. "Are you _shot?_"

"I'm certain that if I were shot I wouldn't be sitting here right now."

"Fair enough." Jane replied meekly. "Shooting where? In the department?"

"Look, Jane. Maybe we should do this inside." Frost flashed Maura a smile, but neither she or Jane could ignore the pressing look of urgency behind his eyes, the subtle waver in Maura's direction. Frost had never been one for being subtle, Jane thought bitterly.

Jane, apprehension lacing her every word, spoke evenly to Maura. "You're alright?" When Maura nodded, Jane followed Frost inside. Glass from the bullet penetrated window covered most of the floor. Every step crunched under their feet. Frankie was standing in front of the elevator with Cavanaugh, the pair sharing grim expressions and talking in hushed whispers. Each stopped after seeing Jane and Frankie, with a nod from Cavanaugh, headed up the stairs and out of sight. "What happened?" asked Jane as she slipped on gloves. "Do we have the shooter in custody? Where's Korsak?" There was silence between the three. "Guys," Jane laughed nervously, panic settling in her stomach. "Where's Korsak?"

"Vince is fine." Cavanaugh said flatly. "He's at Boston Memorial."

Jane's eyes became saucers. "He was shot."

"He's fine." insisted Frost. "Bullet might have shattered the bone in his arm but he'll be fine. Needs some surgery, probably'll use up his vacation time. Don't think he'll mind that much," He tried to smile. "Look, Jane. That's not what we wanted you in here for."

"Yeah, yeah." she waved her hand vaguely. "What is it?"

"This shooting wasn't random."

"What, someone is gunning for Korsak? C'mon, he's put away thousands of people. It could be anyone."

"They weren't aiming for Korsak."

"Then who-" Jane stopped. Realization struck her like a lightening bolt. "Maura. God dammit," she slammed her fist into the wall, not hard enough for it to hurt but hard enough to make a point. She turned back to them. "What do we know?"

Frost pointed to the elevator. "They were standing here. When Maura got here this morning, there was a mob of journalists and reporters outside. Korsak came down to get her and escort her in." Jane made a mental note to thank Korsak later. "If you look here," he scooted over so that Jane could see where he was pointing with his gloved finger. "First bullet is here," Carefully, the bullet was extracted and dropped into an evidence baggy. "Maura is about 5'5. Bullet went right over her head."

Jane ran a hand through her hair, over her mouth and then finally left it squeezing her shoulder for some form of support. She bent over and examined the bullet hole herself and then carefully rolled the bullet around in the palm of her hand, the baggy forming a slick barrier from the roughness of the bullets edges. Still, Jane could feel its harshness; the anger, the hate, the pure evil that the bullet added to the atmosphere. She turned back to her partner. "This couldn't have been someone trying to kill Patrick Doyle's daughter." she said. "They wouldn't have missed."

"That's what I thought too." Frost pointed again to the bullet hole. "But Maura got here early this morning. About an hour earlier, actually. I don't think they anticipated the crowds or Maura coming early. I think they realized Maura was here already, realized their opportunity was slipping and took the shot before they were ready. Didn't take into account the wind, how the glass of the window would skew the bullet..."

"Even with all those mistakes, he got a pretty good shot." noted Jane. "He missed the first time. Why did he miss again? Didn't have the glass of the windows," she waved her hand at the glass on the floor. "Free shot."

"Maura said Korsak pushed her down. Said they were down for a few seconds. He got back up with his gun, Maura slid into the elevator onto the floor. She probably wasn't visible or the shooter didn't have a good enough shot. That's when Korsak went down. I guess our guy didn't care about getting Maura anymore so long as he got someone. Didn't want the day to be a complete waste," he looked down at the floor, the glass around his feet as sharp as his voice. "Security guards Dan and Benny helped Korsak. We had a civilian cut up by the glass."

"She okay?"

Frost nodded curtly. "Bein' patched up. Pretty upset, but she'll be fine."

"Any chance at controlling media exposure?"

"Ha," chuckled Frost. "Just about every damn reporter in Boston was out in that street this morning and if they weren't there when the shooting happened, they sure as hell were there after. They started filming live right after the first shot."

"How many shots do we have?"

"The one bullet there," he signaled the hole in the wall. "We have another bullet at the hospital with Korsak. Two more lodged in that wall," Gesturing to the far right wall, Jane saw two small holes. "I'm guessing it was just one shooter. If it had been two, I don't think the doc would have made it. Seems like someone panicked."

"I want ballistics to go over our shot radar and see where the shot came from. Crowd, building. I want the make and model of the gun on my desk by the end of the day." Jane demanded. Without waiting for Frost to respond, she pushed past the officers crawling around the crime scene and made her way make to Maura. The M.E was still sitting at the edge of the ambulance, her legs swinging back and forth nervously. Out of impulse Jane rested her hand on her friend's knee, hoping the gesture would sooth Maura's nerves.

"I'm fine," she insisted. "Really. Is Vince going to be alright?"

"From what I heard, yeah. He should be fine." Jane took a seat next to Maura. "You're staying with me from now on. Don't-" Maura raised her hand and opened her mouth to protest, but Jane clamped one hand over her mouth and shook her head. "Do not fight me on this one, Maura. If someone is coming after you, they sure as hell aren't going to have an easy time doing it. You're staying at my place, end of discussion. You will have two," she raised two fingers in front of Maura's face. "-armed officers down in autopsy with you at all times and you absolutely will not be alone in a room."

Maura shook her head. "Jane, I don't think-"

"Nope," Jane hopped off the back end of the ambulance, holding out her hand for Maura to take. "C'mon, we're taking the day off. We can grab some chinese and watch some movies."

"No, Jane. There are things to be considered, other people-"

"Like who?"

"My mother, Jane. She just got out of the hospital," Maura narrowed her eyes. "I can't just leave her in that house. Especially not when someone is after me. And then there's Bass. Your mother lives there too, you know."

Jane frowned. "Okay," Feeling a bit defeated, she sat back down. "Okay, well..." The idea of her and Constance in the same room together was explosive. Nuclear, even. She thought back to their conversation earlier and a deep, unrelenting need to run away came rushing through her rather violently. She looked at Maura, the same unfathomable innocence shining behind her brown eyes. "She'll stay with us at my place." Jane said with finality. She tried her best to look at ease with the decision, but she feared Maura could read right through her. "Ma can stay with Frankie."

"Jane," said Maura hesitantly. "Your apartment..."

"Hey," Jane shouted defensively. "What's wrong with my apartment?"

Maura bit her lip. "Well, it's very small."

"Oh I'm sorry, Queen of England. Is my palace not up to code enough for you?" she snarked.

"I just think we would be more comfortable staying at my house."

"More comfortable until we get sniped walking in the front door." A ripple of fear flashed across Maura's face. Jane, in instant remorse, smacked the side of her own face. "Okay, that wasn't the smartest thing to say. I just think it's a safer and wiser decision to stay at my house. Where I have guns."

"You have multiple guns?"

"I..." drawled Jane. "I do."

"Why haven't you ever mentioned that?"

"Because you would want one."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I saw how happy you looked holding my gun that time," Jane smirked. "Last thing we need is a medical examiner on the loose with a .22 caliber pistol and a mission for a new pair of shoes."

* * *

><p>"I don't see why we couldn't stop at my apartment earlier for some clothes." Maura grumbled. "I haven't worn this yoga top in ages." she played with the flimsy material and stared at it rather depressingly. Jane rolled her eyes and tugged on her own shirt, an old Boston PD Baseball tee that she often wore to bed. They had been back at Jane's apartment for a few hours already and Constance and Jane had barely spoken. Maura, Jane thought, was either an excellent actress and was pretending she didn't notice the tension between her best friend and mother or she was more oblivious to things that Jane originally imagined. Jane ordered Frankie to pick up Bass and bring him over so she could get Maura straight back to her apartment, Constance being escorted later by Frankie as well. Though Frankie didn't say anything to Jane, she saw the irritation in his face when she told him Angela would be rooming with him. It gave her a pervasive sense of satisfaction. How many times had Frankie made Jane babysit Angela? <em>How the tables have turned, <em>Jane thought wickedly.

Maura slipped into her change of clothes and laid lazily back onto Jane's bed, her hair tangled beneath her in soft blonde waves. Neither she or Jane had spoken much about the shooting. Rather, they came straight home and ate, flicking on a movie so they could evade the conversation as best they could. Jane realized ten minutes in that she hadn't picked the best of films – a cop movie, with more shooting in it than Jane had probably seen in her life time – but the two meandered through it, neither wanting to bring up the unfortunate of the day's events. When Constance arrived, the three sat in relative silence the discovery channel on, both Maura and Jane surfing their laptops while Constance hummed on dismally, looking around at the small apartment with contempt. "I'll take the couch tonight," said Jane, climbing onto the bed with Maura. "You and your mom can have my bed."

Wide-eyed and frightful, Maura sprang up from her laying position and shook her head ferociously. "You can't leave me in here alone with her!" she cried.

Jane laughed. "What? I thought you guys were getting along."

"We haven't talked in weeks since I asked about my Patrick and my biological mother." Maura said grimly. "Speaking of, Jane. Did you find anything out?"

Fidgeting uncomfortably, Jane shook her head and turned away. "I'll let you know."

"It's just that Korsak said something strange this morning when I talked to him."

"If you want, we can both take the couch." said Jane, quickly changing the subject. "There is a pull out bed." She stood up and walked from the bedroom, fully intended on kicking Constance away to the bedroom and readying the pull out bed for she and Maura. Constance didn't argue. She gave Jane a curt nod, thanked her for her hospitality and vanished into Jane's bedroom. Maura poured she and Jane a glass of wine from the bottle that was always kept in the apartment for nights like these. She sipped on it slowly while Jane made up the bed, her eyes glancing fervently over in Maura's direction every now and again. "You could help." she joked.

"I was shot at today." Maura smiled playfully. "Doctors orders are to avoid strenuous activity."

Jane snorted. "What doctor?"

"Me," she said simply. Jane picked a pillow up and chucked it straight at Maura, eliciting a small squeal.

"You're not a _real _doctor," she said mockingly. "You're just a forensic pathologist."

"Careful, Jane. Your apartment is very small. I'm sure I could find those guns." she cocked a flirtatious eyebrow and took a sip of her wine, a small smile playing on her bright red lips. Jane tried her best not to laugh but not even a cough could cover up the chuckle escaping from her throat. She pulled the last sheet up, grabbed any pillows she could find and turned around, flailing her arms up into the air and doing a little twirl.

"Voila!" she said in a over accentuated accent. Maura laughed and sauntered over, extending the other glass of wine for Jane. She took it gratefully and sipped, but her smile soon turned to a grimace. "God, this is awful."

"I think it's good."

"Yeah you also think that the definition of fun is watching a marathon on hibernating polar bears on Animal Planet." Jane dumped the wine into the sink and rinsed the glass.

"We never finished our conversation." said Maura. "In the bedroom. Korsak-"

"Maur, I'm really tired." Jane mumbled quickly. She walked to the bed and slid easily under the covers, turning so her back was to Maura and she was facing the door. She knew that behind her was a Maura breaming with questions and wanting answers, but Jane wasn't ready to give them to her yet; in fact, Jane wasn't sure if she was ready to tell Maura anything at all. Part of her wanted Constance to be the one to tell Maura of her maternity, but Jane knew the chances of Constance being completely truthful with her daughter were slim to none. She heard Maura shuffling around and soon the light flicked off, leaving them in both a verbal silence and visual. The weight on the other side of the bed dipped down and Jane could feel Maura's body heat bouncing off her back. Maura sighed heavily, causing Jane to roll on her side and look. "You okay?"

"I don't know." she whispered into the dark. "Am I going to be okay?"

"Hey," Jane said seriously. "I won't let anything happen to you." she fished for Maura's hand in the sea of blankets, finally grasping onto it and squeezing tightly. Maura rolled into Jane's arm, her tears wetting the bare skin of Jane's forearm.

"I'm sorry," she cried.

Jane rubbed Maura's back in soothing circles, her chin resting atop Maura's head. "It's okay," she shushed. "It's all going to be fine."

As Maura cried in her arms, Constance's voice reverberated in her ears, the final words she spoke to Jane still echoing in her head.

"_Maura may be the product of my half-sister and Patrick Doyle, but she is my _daughter. _I did everything that I've done to protect her, Jane. All be damned if anyone tells me any differently. We've all been trying to protect her. Don't you want the same thing?" _

* * *

><p><strong>So I really had to think about this chapter because I didn't want to give you guys all the information I've thought up for the Maura's mother Constance  bio-mom. I actually did write an entire three page word document about the history that I'm putting into this story. I originally wrote this chapter and gave you guys all the information but I decided to change it. It felt way too rushed. When I'm done with the story, would you guys be interested in me putting up everything I've written about Constance and Hope? It isn't really a story format. It's more of just like a background history but I might not fit everything into this fic. Let me know in the reviews what you think! **


	7. Do You Hear the Screaming Inside My Head

"Oh my God, Maura." Jane groaned. Somewhere in the room she could hear her already awake, moving around with mild care. She made few noises, but the sudden clatter of a falling glass startled Jane from her dreams. Still half asleep, she rolled over on her side and reached for her phone to check the time. The screen lit up and blinded her. Squinting, she waited for her eyes to adjust and focus to the light. The sight of the time made her insides squirm. "Maura," she whined. "You're a robot, aren't you? You never sleep."

"You know I like doing yoga in the morning before work."

"Yeah," grunted Jane. "I know. But you realize we don't have to be in before nine o'clock, right? And it's currently," she pressed her phone button again, letting out a guttural groan of disapproval. "Jesus, it's 5 o'clock. It takes you three hours to do yoga?" She could hear Maura dropping her mat on the floor, quintessentially ignoring her friends irritation. Jane tucked her head under the blanket, reveling in both the warmth of the blanket and her own body heat. From beneath the sea of blankets, Jane called out to Maura, who had been very quiet. "Are you still alive?"

Maura laughed. "I'm meditating."

"Sleeping is the best form of meditation."

"The best form of meditation is quiet meditation."

"You woke me up and you won't even talk to me?" Jane heard Maura exhale, whether from annoyance or the meditation process, she wasn't sure.

"I didn't wake you up on purpose." She hummed to herself for a minute. "You know, participating in a physical activity in the morning after you wake up is very beneficial to your health. It kicks starts your metabolism, increases blood flow to the heart and generally provides you with more energy during the day. Coupled with a nutritious breakfast, it really can be one the greatest things that you can do for yourself."

Jane rolled her eyes, thankful that Maura couldn't see her. "I exercise." she said defensively. "You know, sometimes. And my metabolism is fine. If you hadn't noticed I resemble some kind of tall gangly pole."

"Health isn't about body mass, Jane." Maura scolded. "You can be very thin, as you are, and not be healthy. For example, last night you at all of the dumplings."

Throwing the covers back, Jane popped upright and stared incredulously at Maura. "_You _ate all of the fried rice!" she shouted, throwing an accusatory finger in Maura's direction. The blonde smiled and popped one eye open, taking a quick look at Jane.

"You're very childish in the morning." she teased.

Jane fell back under the covers. "This isn't morning, Maura. This is the crack of dawn. Morning doesn't begin until the sun is up, I have a hot coffee in my hand and I've already taken a shower and eaten a bowl of cocoa puffs."

"Another unhealthy eating habit." she heard Maura mutter. Before she could say something more, the bedroom door opened.

"Good morning," Constance said cheerily. Jane hid further beneath her blankets, closing her eyes tightly and squeezing the blankets between her fists.

"Oh my God," she squealed quietly to herself. "It's genetic."

"Did you say something, Jane?" called Maura from across the room.

"Nothing." said Jane hurriedly, kicking her blankets off and making a bee line for the bathroom. When she was safely behind the door, her eyes still weeping with sleep, she slid down to the floor with her back pressed to the wood of the door. She rubbed her eyes, bringing her knees up against her chest and letting out a long sigh. She was certain she could sleep here on the floor without even a single care, but she struggled with her body and stood up, reaching out to turn on the hot water of the shower. "One day down." she muttered as she took a step into the shower.

* * *

><p>"Damn," Jane heard Frost say as she walked into the bull pen. He was laughing to himself, looking at Jane and smirking. "You look <em>tired. <em>You and Maura stay up all night painting each others nails or something?"

"You used to be my favorite." said Jane. "Now I think I'll put in that good word for Frankie."

Frost smiled and handed her one of the coffees he had in a tray. "Just making a keen observation." Jane rolled her eyes and sat back at her desk, letting her head fall and clunk against the hard wood. She lolled her head back and forth for a few minutes before bringing it back up and taking a look around. It seemed strange not to have Korsak and Frost sitting behind her making jokes or fighting. She looked at his desk sadly, a pang of guilt stabbing at her heart. _It should have been me with Maura, _Jane thought savagely as she began pulling out the case files she had been working on. She had no intention of working on them, though. The only case Jane was assigning herself to was that of the shooter. Cold cases be damned. She dumped them all in her drawer, slamming it shut with meager force. Her chair spun until she was facing Frost. "What?"

"What do we have on the shooter?"

Frost frowned. "The same thing we had yesterday." he sat down. "Nothing."

"Did ballistics send up their report yet?"

"They're pretty backed up,"

"I don't care how backed up they are." she huffed. "This is important."

"Cavanaugh said he put a rush on it." he insisted. "Don't worry. We'll catch this guy. Speaking of Maura, did she come in today? I figured you would have her on lockdown at your place."

Jane snorted and shook her head. "You really think I could keep Maura locked up in my apartment? She'd shoot me herself. I've got a couple guys down there. She thinks there are only the two guarding the doors but I've got a couple more guys running down there every half hour or so just to check on things."

"Really think the guy will try and get in here?"

"Paddy got in here." Jane said seriously. "And Paddy got his boys in here. I'm not taking any chances. Not with Maura."

"You're a good friend, Jane."

Smiling slyly, Jane turned back around and faced her computer. "You're just saying that because you want to be my favorite again."

* * *

><p>Maura sighed emphatically and rested her head on her hand. The day was proving even more boring than she originally thought; there were very few reports to catch up on, even fewer dead bodies, and by noon she was beginning to wonder why she had come into work at all. Jane had periodically checked on her throughout the morning and it was only at Maura's strict insistence that the detective finally promised she wouldn't be back down until after lunch. As sweet as she found it, Maura wanted Jane just to solve the case. She wanted her home, her bed, her life; Maura didn't want to be known as Patrick Doyle's daughter. All Maura wanted was to be Maura Isles, chief medical examiner at the Boston Police Department. The idea was proving to be more and more difficult as the hoards of journalists and reporters continued to clog her phone lines and mob in front of the departments steps. Even the fear of a shooter couldn't shoo them away. They watched as new windows were fitted for the front of the building, some speaking quickly into their iPhone speakers while others took notes. It seemed ridiculous to Maura; she was nothing special. She was thrust into this. She didn't <em>want <em>this.

With a careless flick of her wrist, Maura scanned the computer screen once more. She had resorted to spending most of her day shopping for shoes she didn't want or need. By 11:30, her collection had grown by four pairs and by noon she upped it to six. Now, as she searched for her seventh treasure, her mind continued to wander to all the dark places she had been avoiding pointing the flashlight at.

Between Jane acting strangely with Constance, Constance acting strangely with Jane, and them both acting strangely with her, Maura didn't know what was going on. The morning was spent in relative silence on both her mother's and Jane's part. Jane spent a considerably longer time in the shower than she normally would – and Maura knew Jane's averaging shower time, through all their many sleepovers and workouts at the gym. When she had finally returned, Constance, who had sat quietly at the table drinking her coffee and reading a book, stood back up and ventured back into the bedroom, shutting the door with a rather exhausting slam. When Maura asked Jane if she and Constance had a fight, Jane conspicuously had to return to the bathroom – and for the next hour, Maura didn't see either Jane or her mother. Once Jane had finally left the confines of her restroom, it was Maura's turn to get ready. They left in silence, drove in silence, arrived in silence and parted the same way. A little tingle of bitterness drove Maura to her next purchase, a wave of emotional satisfaction pumping through her veins as she added the shoes to her shopping cart.

Jane was hiding something.

The door to autopsy slid open behind her and Maura expected to turn around and see Jane, breaking her promise to not return until after lunch. She was surprised to find instead her mother, an uneasy smile on her face as she argued with the two armed officers Jane had posted at Maura's door. Maura intervened, a pleasant smile on her face.

"It's my mother," she explained. "It's alright."

They each gave a curt nod, eyeing Constance with unease but returning to their post in front of the door. Constance rolled her eyes and looked back at Maura, her smile returning. "Hello, darling."

"Mother." Maura said breathlessly. She couldn't hide her surprise, not even if she tried her hardest. Constance barely had said more than a full sentence to her since Maura questioned her very own genetics. Seeing Constance Isles standing in front of her willingly was the last thing Maura expected of her day. It gave her the sudden urge to purchase just one last pair of shoes. "I thought you were staying at the apartment today. It really might be best. You could be targeted too,"

"Oh, really, Maura. I cannot stay locked up in _Jane's _apartment all day with nothing to do."

Maura frowned. She didn't like the way Constance said Jane's name, or the upturn of her nose as if she had suddenly smelled something rotten. "It's very nice of Jane to offer to let us stay. All of us." she enunciated her words very carefully, emitting a sort of proudness in defending her best friend. "I don't mean to be rude, but are you and Jane arguing? I thought you two were getting to know each other. This morning it seemed like-"

"That was nothing. Really," she awkwardly reached out and patted Maura's shoulder. "I was just tired and I'm sure Jane was as well. Anyway, as to why I'm _here._" She adjusted her purse strap further up her shoulder. "What do you say we have lunch?"

"Have lunch?" repeated Maura, surprise laced in her words.

"Yes. I thought we could talk."

"Well," she bit her lip, turning back to her computer. She didn't have anything else to do. "I'm not sure Jane would like us leaving the building. We could go upstairs and see what Angela could make us in the café. Let me just, ah..." she turned and looked for her purse. When she had secured it on her shoulder, she motioned for Constance to follow her out the door. "What is it that we're talking about?" asked Maura, fishing through her bag for her access card.

"I thought we could talk about your mother."

Maura's bag dropped to the ground.

* * *

><p><strong>I was going to make this chapter a little bit longer but I didn't want you guys to have to wait more. This week has been very stressfulexciting. Guess who is going to be an aunt? :) Save my future niece or nephew from the ****candy stealing mutant monkey's and leave a review with your thoughts. Have a wonderful weekend everyone!**


	8. Peace, Love, Hope

Constance and Maura settled in the most isolated table in the coffee shop. There weren't that many patrons but Maura, who was still visibly shocked at her mother's blunt arrival and even more blunt announcement of what she wanted to talk about, wanted to sit as far away from where others would be as possible. She looked nervously over her shoulder every few minutes, anxiously waiting for when Angela would come over merrily and take their order. The two officers that had been guarding Maura downstairs were waiting at the coffee shop's main entrance. She wondered how much they had heard when they were still down in autopsy. It was rare for Maura to stumble over her words, but in that split second, she was completely at a loss for the English language. Constance draped her coat over the back of the chair and turned decidedly back at her daughter, a forced smile replacing the perpetual frown she had been wearing since stepping into the elevator. Maura fiddled with her hands, not sure if she should be the one to talk first or not. Finally, Constance cleared her throat and spoke.

"I suppose you have a lot of questions."

The medical examiner had to resist the urge to laugh. "I do." she said quietly. "Do you know who my mother is?" There was a pause, followed by a curt nod.

"I do." she mimicked Maura.

"And you never thought to tell me?" Keeping her composure, Maura steadied her voice. "And you know Patrick Doyle is my father. You've known all along-"

"Maura, please." Constance raised a single hand, causing Maura to sink back into her seat, feeling smaller and smaller the longer Constance stared at her. "Please,"she repeated. "Let's just focus on one thing at a time."

"Fine."

"Your mother's name is Hope. Hope Burke. She was born September 21st, 1961." Maura felt a sharp tingle race up her spine. "You look a lot like her. Your hair," Constance smiled. "It's very similar. And the way you present yourself, the way you hold your composure. Hope was the same way. Always stood very tall, very proud. She never bowed her head. You inherited her intelligence. Her wit."

"So you knew her?" asked Maura. "Well enough, I presume, to know that she was intelligent and witty. To know those things, you would have to know the person."

There was a drawn out pause. Maura wondered if her mother would get up and leave right then and there, deciding that talking to Maura was a bad idea. She looked as though she was contemplating leaving, her eyes roaming around the shop looking for something to stare at that wasn't her information hungry daughter. When she finally turned back to Maura, the young blond saw something different in her mother's eyes that she only recognized from years of working with Jane; remorse.

"I met Hope in the summer of 1969. She was eight years old. I was eighteen. I had just graduated high school and my parents had thrown together a small party to celebrate. My father was a very proud business man and took great pleasure in inviting his coworkers to all of our events."

Maura frowned. "I never met your father."

"Alexander Rochester. Very tall, very handsome. I didn't see much of him myself growing up. He was a banker and," she trailed off. "He was very popular. Hope arrived at my party with her mother Anna. My mother and I wholly assumed that Anna was the wife of someone working at the bank."

"I'm not sure I understand where this is going." said Maura uncomfortably.

"Later that night," Constance took a deep breath. "My parents began arguing. My mother questioned my father about Anna. It was a popular opinion at the party that Hope looked very much like I did at that age. My mother wanted to know why." Maura's hands wrapped around the edges of her chair, the knuckles on her fists turning white. She leaned forward a bit afraid that if she was any further away from Constance she wouldn't be able to hear the revelation that she knew was coming. "It was a very big fight-"

"Mother." interrupted Maura. "What are you saying?"

"Before you say anything else, just let me-"

"Coffee, ladies?" Angela raised the coffee pot up a bit, smiling at them both. Maura shook her head politely, as did Constance. The conversation continued one sided on Angela's part for several more moments before Angela, realizing she had walked in on something, turned back and walked to the cash register. Maura turned back to her mother, a new anger burning inside of her.

"Just tell me, Constance." she said matter-of-factly. "Am I your niece? Was Hope your sister?"

* * *

><p>"Jane! We got those ballistic reports," Frost walked into the bull pen grinning from ear to ear. He tossed the file to Jane, who caught it rather gracefully, and she flipped open the first page. She had never been so happy to get a report back in her life and that was counting the Surgeon. Her fingers flipped from page to page, eyes soaking in as much of the information as she could before she turned looked over at Frost.<p>

"So we got ourselves a sniper. Not surprised," she nodded over to the screen where they had tapped a map of the city. "We picked up the shot coming from this building here." Jane pointed. "Nobody could make that shot without a scope.

"Since when does the mob business use scopes?"

"Evolution my friend." shrugged Jane, taking a long look at the map once again. "So if we have our shooter here... even with a sniper rifle, it still fits our idea of panic. He realized that Maura was already here, nervous and shaky, he's trying to get a shot in. One little twitch and he's off by a few notches. He didn't even have time to calculate with the wind and the windows. He just took the shot."

"That makes him more dangerous," said Frost. "A sniper that takes the shot before he's ready? That's just stupid."

"Doesn't put much value to life." replied Jane. "Usually you get a job, you get a target – that's it. You take that target out. This guy – well, he doesn't even care. He doesn't care how many rounds he shoots off. If you don't want to be caught, you shoot as many rounds as you need to and not a second more. Simple as that. This was careless. This wasn't a pro," Jane shook her head and looked to Frost for his opinion.

Frost frowned. "Or it was a pro who thinks he's too good to be caught. He got cocky, he got lazy. Whatever you wanna call it."

"Even if he was over confident, you would think he would want to keep up his rep with clean kills and clean crime scenes. Pros are meticulous. They have an image to uphold. You really think this guy is so overly confident he'd let his work slip up?"

"Korsak has the ego the size of a grand canyon. I've watched what can happen when you got an over inflated head." he cracked.

Jane punched him in the shoulder. "You can only make fun of Korsak when he's here and not in a hospital bed," she glared. "I just don't think it fits. I think this was a test. Maybe an initiation? Take out mob boss daughter, welcome to the club. No girls allowed." she sighed and gathered all of her papers into one small pile on her desk. "I'm going to go see if we got prints on the shell casings we found. I'll be down in autopsy after that."

"Lunch date with Maura?" Frost grinned.

Jane's body tensed up. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Uh," Frost scrunched up his face, confused. "I just wondered if you were going out to lunch."

"You said date."

"It's an expression, Jane. You get enough sleep last night?"

Jane rubbed her head over her face. "No." she mumbled, rushing out of the room to go check on the prints.

* * *

><p>"Hope and I didn't grow up together." Constance said quickly. "I wasn't allowed to see her once I found out she was my sister. We exchanged letters, but-"<p>

"But she was your _sister. _How could you-" Maura paused, a thick stream of tears beginning to fall from her brown eyes. "I can't _believe _you! You _raised _me. You told me...God," she fought against the tears as courageously as she could, the palms of her heads her only choice of weapons. Constance offered her a napkin but Maura declined; she wanted nothing from the woman in front of her. "How _dare _you!" she seethed. "You've known all along who I was, where I _came _from! How could you take away my identity like that?"

"I gave you the identity that Hope wanted for you." insisted Constance. "I gave you my surname. I gave you my home. My love."

"Your love," Maura choked on her tears. "Is my name even Maura?"

"Hope named you Maura, yes."

"So where is she?" she demanded. "What was so horrible about her life that she couldn't keep me? Was the idea of raising me that awful?"

"You know about Patrick. You _know _where he came from."

"I didn't ask about Patrick. I asked about her."

"Hope wanted an education. She was only eighteen. She couldn't raise you, Maura. She couldn't."

"And she couldn't visit? Send a Christmas card?"

Constance straightened up and began digging through her purse. She pulled out an old, yellowing, folded up piece of paper. She toyed with it for a few moments, its texture smooth under her finger tips. She looked up at Maura and slid the paper over to her. "I've carried this around with me since the day Hope left you in my foyer. I understand your anger. I hope one day we can sit and talk openly, not just about Hope, but about us. I have so many regrets, Maura. All I want from my life is to find a way to make this all up to you. I know I have made mistakes. I wasn't there for you. I didn't know how. Despite Hope firmly believing you were better off with me and my father, I've wondered every day if you would have been happier being raised by her or even someone else entirely. I am so sorry," she closed her eyes for a few moments, opening them again only after she heard Maura move the sheet of paper from the middle of the table to her side. Maura fumbled with it clumsily, mostly looking over its worn edges. She didn't unfold it. "You can have that. Read it whenever you like. Whenever you're ready."

"What is it?" asked Maura carefully.

"A letter from Hope, written to me. It won't give you all of your answers. I still have questions myself, Maura. Know that. I don't know everything." she sighed. "Hope is as much of a mystery to me sometimes as she will always be to you. I know nothing of where she went after she left you with me."

"Do you think she's alive?"

"Jane said she is. I didn't ask much more than that."

Maura's head shot up. "Jane?"

"Yes. Jane came and spoke with me yesterday."

"Jane knew?"

"Yes."

Just then the door to the café swung open and Jane, a relieved look on her face, began walking straight towards Constance and Maura.

* * *

><p>Jane knew from the second she walked into the shop that she had walked in on something. Maura and Constance sat wedged in the corner. At first, neither of them saw her; it gave her time to walk back out, turn around and just text Maura later. She felt compelled to stay, however, and she dragged her feet forward. When Maura turned to face her, Jane's stomach dropped straight to her feet. Dark smudges of mascara were smeared beneath both of Maura's eyes. Only a few tears were still dotting her cheeks, but her eyes were blood shot and red. Jane had seen Maura upset many times in their thus far short lived friendship but never before had she seen Maura look so incredibly defeated. With a deep breath and a Catholic prayer, Jane walked over to the two Isles ladies and smiled weakly at Maura. She held up the thin sheet of paper in her hand.<p>

"We got prints off of the shell casings." The words seemed so pathetic against the gravity of Maura's tears. She looked from Constance to Jane, back at Constance and then finally she settled on Jane.

"You knew?"

Jane's eyes didn't waver from Maura's. "Maur," she moved her hand to hold her friend's, but Maura pulled it away.

"I really wish everyone would stop trying to explain things to me and just answer the question I'm asking. Did you know that she was my aunt?"

"Yes."

Maura stood from the table and grabbed her bag, hardly taking the time to look at her mother or Jane. She pocketed the note and walked from the shop, her guards walking dutifully behind her.

"Thanks." Jane muttered at Constance, snatching the papers back up and heading back towards the elevator.

* * *

><p><strong>This will probably be the last update until Saturday. Let me know what you're thinking in the reviews. Rizzles hugs to you all : )<strong>


	9. Call It What You Want

The car ride back to Jane's after work was unbearably stifling. Maura didn't talk. She settled into her seat and stared idly out of the window, an unmistakably sad expression painted onto her face. Jane didn't even bother putting on the radio. She could turn it to Maura's favorite stations and she didn't anticipate it getting Maura to talk to her any sooner. Instead they rode in uncomfortable silence, their minds filled with their own worries. Being back at the apartment didn't seem anymore promising. Maura left to change in Jane's bedroom and Jane sat lazily down on the couch, Jo Friday hopping upon her lap and giving little puppy kisses. She pushed Jo off and laid her body flat on the couch, letting her bones settle.

She wanted to talk to Maura about everything. Jane was hoping that Constance would take some time to think about what she wanted to say to her daughter. Quite honestly, Jane was terrified of what Constance said at all – she could have easily thrown Jane under the bus for interfering with the whole situation, told Maura lists of lies and there was little Jane could do if Maura wasn't speaking to her. On top of not knowing what to say about Hope, Jane had absolutely zero idea what to do about Patrick. The fact was, Patrick chose his words very carefully that night. He loved Hope. There was no denying that. Jane knew, deep in her heart, that Patrick Doyle walked every single day with Hope Burke right next to him. So why did he say that Maura looked at Jane the same way he looked at Hope?

Jane understood what he was implying; that Maura, her best friend, was in love with her. The idea seemed laughable. Jane squirmed at the idea. Maura wasn't in love with her. Jane wasn't in love with Maura. They were best friends. Jane thought back to the few girl friendships she had had in her life; admittedly, there were very few. She had always preferred playing basketball with the boys than barbies with the girls. Some even wondered if Jane was the youngest of the Rizzoli children and merely mimicked her boy older brothers. When they found out that she was the oldest, they always gave her passing glances, as if had she been the youngest, her behavior would have been acceptable. Jane just didn't like spending time with girl friends. They never had much in common, and Jane – well, she wanted to be a cop. The idea that she and Maura's friendship wasn't normal caught her by surprise. Did they really appear to others as if they were in love? She laughed out loud a little, hoping that Maura didn't hear her.

"Jane?" _Shit, _thought Jane. She turned around and Maura stood before her, timidly standing in the doorway of Jane's bedroom. Her head was cocked to one side and she was tracing the lines in the carpet with her bare toe, a nervous habit Jane had spotted on several occasions. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

"Don't." Jane held up her hand. "I should have told you. I was hoping Constance would talk with you, though. I thought it should come from her."

"You were right. It should have came from her. A long time ago, actually."

"You okay?"

Maura nodded and walked to the couch, taking a seat next to Jane and crossing her legs. "Do you know where Hope is now?"

"Not on hand, but I can get it." Maura stayed quiet. "Maur, do you want me to get a telephone number or an address or-"

"No" she said clearly. "Not right now. I just... can't." Maura unclenched her fist to reveal the small piece of paper Jane noticed her picking up before she left the shop. It laid in the palm of her hand and Maura didn't say anything. She only stared. Jane wanted to ask but she refrained, giving Maura the time to think. "Hope wrote this to my mother when she left me. I haven't read it yet. I wanted to, but..."

"Read it when you're ready."

"I'm ready." Maura said hesitantly, a small blush creeping up her cheeks. "I just wanted you here to read it with me."

Jane shifted uncomfortably and looked at her friend, her mind jumping rapidly from thought to thought. Maura was still looking down at the letter, a lackluster smile playing against her lips. "Are you sure about that?" asked Jane. "I mean, it's really personal – I would understand, you know, if you wanted to keep it private."

"I don't know a lot about families." she started. "I think now I know even less than I did a few hours ago. But you, Jane..." Maura's hand crept over to Jane's. "You are the only one who has ever been honest with me. You're the only one who has always had my best intentions in mind. And I know sometimes I forget that, but you're my best friend." she paused. "You're my family, Jane. And whatever is in this letter," Maura held it up, a bit towards the light, and peered at it only for a moment. "It doesn't change the fact that every Sunday, I eat dinner with your family. It won't change the fact that I spend more nights with you than alone. Whatever is in this letter," she said softly, again gazing down at it. It turned between her fingers. "It may or may not give me answers. But I'm starting to realize I have everything I need."

Jane pulled her hand back and nodded. "Let's read it then,"

"Here we go," Maura took a deep breath and unfolded the paper. It was old and fragile. She could tell it had been read many times. Her mind wandered to a younger version of Constance walking down a staircase only to find baby Maura laying in a basinet. How many times did she read the letter? The folds were etched permanently into the paper and, in the weakest areas, there were small tears. She was careful not to rip anything else. It felt like glass between her fingers. Finally smooth, slanted cursive was revealed to her; it was writing very similar to her own, with only a few miniscule differences here and there. "To my dear sister," began Maura, her voice thick and gravelly. She could already feel the tears building.

"_I will never be able to thank you enough for what you're doing for Patrick and I. Maura is very beautiful, isn't she? I can't tell if she looks more like Patrick or myself. Part of me wishes that I could stay and watch her grow up because I have no doubt she will be as beautiful outside as she will be inside, much like you are. _

_We never did get the chance to properly get to know one another. I think our only mutual interest is in hating our father as much as we both do. I know he wronged you. I am living proof of that. Again, I don't think I could ever begin to show you my appreciation for you not shunning me as the product of our father's infidelity. You've only shown me the most love and support, even in the times that I wasn't allowed to see you or talk to you. We grew up in two separate worlds but I've always wondered if we were more alike that either of us knew. I wish we had the time to find out._

_Maura is better off with you. I've only ever dreamed of school and growing old with my books and writings. She wouldn't do good with me, and she would be even less well off with Patrick. He _is _a good man, Constance. I hope that you know that. And he is Maura's father, because I know with that head of yours, the wheels are already turning. Patrick is Maura's father, but putting his name on the birth certificate would cause more harm than it would good. She's yours now. You are her mother, and your sweet Lawrence her father. Neither I or Patrick can be a part of that now. _

_Please understand that I love her very much. I just can't give her all the love that she needs. I'm not good for her, or right. I'm too young. I'm too careless. I don't know the first thing about being a mother or a caretaker. I've been told I have a surprisingly steep learning curve, but I think motherhood is a science beyond my reach. _

_I know I've asked so much of you already, Constance, but I ask just one more thing. Never tell Maura who I am. I feel like it would bring too much pain to a child that deserves all that this world can offer. She doesn't need to know that I am your sister and her mother. If you will, forget that I am your sister at all. Forget, please, not for me, but for Maura. Forget Patrick and the time that I spent at your home, as lovely as it was. Let Maura experience all the good in the world. By giving her to you, I am trying to prevent her from experiencing the bad._

_Thank you, Constance. _

Bricks seemed to beat against Maura's heart. She crumpled next to Jane much like the paper in her hands; weak and torn. Jane pulled the shorter girl to her, letting Maura's tears soak against the thin cotton fabric of her t-shirt. Maura's shoulders shook, her entire body convulsing in heavy, heart wrenching sobs. "Hey," Jane whispered softly. "Hey, come on."

"I don't know why I'm crying." her voice was muffled against Jane's shoulder.

"It's okay to cry."

"She didn't want me."

"That's not true. She loved you. She gave you to Constance because she loved you, Maur."

Maura pulled away and swatted at her tears. "She sounds bright," she said quietly. "She liked science."

"Like mother, like daughter." muttered Jane.

"I want to find her, Jane. I need to ask her why she didn't want anything to do with me. If she loved me so much, why just give me away like that? Why not at least be a part of my life? Why beg my mother to lie? Find her, Jane."

"I'll get you a phone number tomorrow."

A long silence fell between the two. Maura nestled herself against Jane, her head spinning. She wasn't sure if she could ever sleep again. Too many voices were speaking to her in her head, each with a different question that she hadn't asked herself yet. Most were about Hope and her life, but just as many were about the person whose shoulder she was resting her head on. For days Maura had gone through her head attempting to sort out her more-than-sisterly feelings for Jane. She found herself more concerned with her feelings by the day. At times she wondered if she was merely latching on to the closest thing she had to a real relationship and turning it into something it wasn't and something she didn't want it to be. She always fell back on this logic; _it's just your biological clock, Maura. You just want to find a lifelong mate. This isn't the movies. You don't always get what you want. _She shook the thought from her head.

"Jane?" Maura pulled away from Jane's side and sat up straight, turning her head to look at the dark haired girl next to her. "I was wondering if I could ask you something."

"Okay," said Jane slowly.

Just as Maura opened her mouth to speak, a thud on the door pulled their eyes away from each other. Maura was the first to stand up; she pointed to the bathroom and walked away quickly leaving Jane in a befuddled state on the couch. A second thud, this time heavier and louder, startled her up from her seat. She grabbed her gun and cracked the door open just enough. What stood before her barely surprised her; if anything, it only caused her heart to rip violently from her chest. Jane's dark brown eyes took in the sullen Agent Gabriel Dean, his hair a dark messy brown that Jane once thought of with fondness and a strange urge to run her fingers through. Now it only repulsed her. She turned to slam the door straight in his face but he wedged his foot in before the door could close.

"I hope that hurt." she said bluntly.

"Just talk to me."

Jane looked over her shoulder, hoping that Maura would stay in the bathroom long enough for her to get rid of Dean. "I don't want to talk to you, Dean. That's why I blocked your number." She shoved harder on the door. "Go."

"I deserve to be heard."

"And I deserved respect." she hissed.

"You think I didn't _respect _you?" Jane cringed at how loud his voice had risen. "I went there to protect you, Jane! You and your team. And I was doing my job. It's my job to catch Patrick Doyle."

"Don't play the job card on me, Dean." she scoffed. "I know what this job is."

"You would have let Doyle walk out of there!"

"How'd you know I was there?"

"What?"

"I never told you where we were going." Jane said smoothly. "Never said we had a lead. You weren't on that case, Dean. The only thing I told you was that Doyle was in town and that I was handling it. So how did you know we set that trap? How did you know where we were?" Dean remained silent. "You GPS tracked my car. I found the tracker under my car. You feds think you're really smart," Jane laughed and folded her arms across her chest. "Are you still going to say you respect me?"

"You would have let Doyle walk." Dean said through clenched teeth.

Jane shook her head serenely. "You have no idea what I would have done. You don't _know _me. And you know," she chuckled. "I don't know you, Gabriel. Unfortunately the only part I know of you is Agent Dean. I'm starting to wonder if that's the only part of you that exists."

"What are you doing here?" Jane whipped around to come face to face with Maura. She hadn't heard her come out of the bathroom, which made Jane wonder if she had done it so quietly as to not alert Jane or if Jane was really so deaf she could only hear the thudding of her own panicked, angry heart. Dean's face was void of any readable emotion. He stood firmly in the doorway, eyes glazed and still staring wildly at Jane.

Jane cleared her throat. "He's leaving."

"You didn't say she was here," said Dean quietly, eyes still not moving from Jane's. "I thought..." he trailed off. "I had heard..." Finally he looked over at Maura. "I'm sorry," he said weakly. "For shooting Doyle."

"No you're not.' said Maura. "But thank you."

"I think you should go." spoke Jane.

"We haven't really talked." he replied.

"There is nothing to talk about."

"Jane, please."

"Go ahead, Jane." muttered Maura. Jane stared at her incredulously. "Really." she insisted. Jane slowly tore her eyes from Maura and looked back at Dean, a small light flicking behind his eyes as he watched Jane walk over to him. She looked him up and down from his messy hair to his scuffed shoes. There wasn't a single part of Jane that wanted anything to do with him.

She didn't smile. She didn't frown. Jane stared monotonously at her former lover and cocked her head to the side. "I really think you should go." This time Dean knew he was defeated. He turned around, one of his hands ruffling his hair, and walked straight towards the elevator down the hall. Jane watched him go, mostly because she wanted to make sure he got on and stayed on. When the elevator doors shut and Dean was gone, Jane shut the door and turned back to Maura. She was standing where Jane had left her, her face a little bit downtrodden. One of her hands gripped her opposite arm tightly. Maura stared back at Jane.

"If you love him, I won't be mad." she said firmly. "I don't want you to choose between us."

"It wasn't a choice." Jane responded. "There is right and then there is wrong. Dean is all wrong."

"As a person?" asked Maura. "Or... a lover?"

Jane froze and raised an eyebrow to Maura's question. If Dean was wrong, by Jane's decision Maura was right. And by saying Dean was wrong as a lover... kicking her shoes off to the side, Jane swallowed hard and laughed. "You said to me once that you didn't want to do anything to compromise our friendship. You liked Tommy, but you loved me." Jane walked a little closer to Maura. "You didn't want me to hate you for dating Tommy. It's kind of like that, but..." pausing long enough to side step Maura and walked into the kitchen, Jane finished: "I don't like Dean. I'm not choosing you over him. I'm just picking what's right for me. Wine?" she held up a bottle. Maura smiled and sauntered over to the kitchen counter, slipping easily onto the barstool and letting her head rest in her hands.

"Thank you." she whispered.

"For what?"

"Choosing me."

* * *

><p><strong>Rainbow colored lollipops for everyone!<strong>


	10. Panic

**I hate this chapter a lot. Everything that happened in this one just needed to happen so I could work on the next chapter (which is partially done). I'm almost sorry you have to suffer through this. Rawr. **

Jane shuffled into Maura's office, closing the door behind her just loud enough that Maura knew she was inside. The young doctor was on the phone, her face contorted in all sorts of irritated expressions – her light brown eyes had gone dark and her eyebrows, usually rounded and happy, were narrowed down in anger. She couldn't hear the voice on the other line, but Jane assumed it was business and happily slid down into the seat positioned in front of Maura's desk. She wanted all the time she could to think before she dropped her news on Maura.

It was fairly simple work locating Hope. She hadn't done a particularly good job at hiding, if that was even her intention. Jane penned down the number and address and walked to Maura's office only mildly concerned at how her friend would react to knowing how close she was to meeting her birth mother. Her mind had lingered to Constance, wondering vaguely if the woman would want to see Hope again. It didn't seem as though Constance was angry with Hope for leaving Maura with her like she did – no, Jane knew there was more to that story, but she didn't have the energy to dig anymore and she didn't really care if it had nothing to do with Maura.

"_Oui,_" spat Maura angrily into the phone. "Mais le corpse est un citoyen de France. Ce n'est pas à moi de faire – non, _non_!" She let out an aggravated sigh and chewed on her bottom lip, waiting for the person on the line to finish speaking. Jane watched her discretely from behind the news paper she picked up off Maura's desk. Her nostrils were flared and her cheeks were a rosy, something Jane noticed they did often when Maura was angry. "Monsieur Dupont," Maura said harshly into the telephone. "Nous avons prendre une décision." She turned to grab a pen and for the first time looked up at Jane. She gave her a little smile, then turned her eyes back down to the paper. "Oui," she murmured, writing down something on a notepad. "Merci, au revoir." The phone in her hand slammed back down onto its receiver.

"That sounded fun," Jane folded the newspaper and put it back on Maura's desk. "Do I even want to know?"

"Probably not." she said honestly. "We have had a body downstairs in our freezer for about a month now. There is no family to claim him, and France doesn't want him back."

"Can they do that? Deny a body?"

"Yes," Maura muttered bitterly. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. I'll sort it out. Lunch today?"

"Ma sent lunches with Frankie for us," mumbled Jane. "Peanut butter fluff. Your favorite."

"It really is quite delicious. How is Frankie doing with Angela staying there?"

Jane hesitated. "He's not really talking to me right now," she laughed a little and ran a few fingers through her hair, unabashed by Frankie's attitude. She understood it. "He'll get over it. Really. Don't worry," Maura frowned. "It's not your fault, Maur."

"Everyone is making all these sacrifices for me."

"It's not a sacrifice when it's someone you care about." There was an awkward silence. Maura poked at the paper she had written something down on and slid the pad back and forth on the desk while Jane, her eyes focused on Maura, became lost in her own thoughts. The paper in her pocket burned hot, though, and soon she pulled it out and slid it across the desk. Maura stared at it, not completely understand what it was until a few moments later. "I don't know if you want to call it, or..."

"That was very fast."

"Yeah, well." Jane paused. "It was already in my computer. I thought you might want it, you know, quickly..."

"Yes. Yes, of course." Swiftly, Maura stuffed the piece of paper into her pocket and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Anything I should know?"

"She lives in North Carolina."

"Married?"

"Widowed."

Maura frowned. "Kids?"

"Maybe you should call her and ask Hope all these things." suggested Jane.

"You are right." Maura cleared her throat and stood, grabbing her lab coat and slipping it on. She turned back to Jane with a smile on her face – albeit a little forced – and handed Jane her own jacket that she took off when walking in the door. It caught Jane off guard; was she being banished? She took the coat, her and Maura's fingers brushing past each other just slightly. "Lunch in an hour or so?" she said cheerfully, opening her office door and leading Jane out. Jane eyed her wearily. "What?"

"You're just so..." Jane fished for her words. "Happy."

Maura laughed and pressed the down elevator button. "Am I not allowed to be happy?" Jane pressed the other elevator button.

"You're allowed to be happy," said Jane slowly. "You just..." Maura's elevator door slid open and she stepped inside, followed closely by the two officers following her around.

"See you in an hour."

* * *

><p>Maura slipped into the autopsy room and sat down at her desk. Part of her wanted to throw out the information and move on with her life, because, Maura reasoned, what good could come of it? What could Hope offer Maura that she didn't already have? She had a wonderful job, she got a wonderful education, she had friends – she had Jane, really, and Jane's friends. Jane's family was as much of a family to her as they were to Jane. Everything Maura wanted from life – purpose, family, friends – it was there. It was all right there.<p>

But she couldn't ignore the pressing questions that had been settled in the back of her mind for as long as she knew what the term adopted meant. And now knowing what she knew, that Hope was her adoptive mother's half sister, it only furthered Maura's mania for the truth. She wanted to know. She _needed _to know. Maura knew there was no way she could go the rest of her life wondering. Her shaky hand clutched the land line phone and, with her index finger, she pressed the numbers slowly, her eyes diverting over to the slip of paper to recheck that she was putting in the right digits.

It took several tries; her thin fingers kept slipping and hitting buttons she didn't want to press. When she finally managed to hit the right numbers, the phone felt like dead weight in her head. She could barely lift it to her cheek.

"_Hello?" _

"Yes," said Maura quickly. Her heart was beating so loudly that she was sure the girl on the line could hear it. "Yes, hello. Is Hope there?"

"_Sorry, she's at my brother's right now." _the voice said, the tiniest southern slang mixed in with her honey smooth voice.

"Oh," Maura's heart sank. Brother? She had a brother... "Oh, right." There was a long pause.

"_Is there something I can help you with?" _

"I'm a friend." said Maura quickly. "From a long time ago... I just wanted to catch up." She paused again. When the girl didn't say anything, Maura added: "I didn't realize Hope had a son."

The girl laughed. _"She has two,_" she said. _"You really must have known my mom a long time ago." _

"Your mom?"

"_Yeah?" _she sounded annoyed. _"Look, can I take a message or something?" _

"No." muttered Maura, the phone slipping in her grip a little bit. "I'll call back." She didn't wait for the girl to respond. She let the phone drop and bowed her head into her hands, rubbing her temples slowly. Two brothers and a sister? She thought back to the letter – Hope didn't want any children. She didn't want Maura. But she went on and had kids? Three kids? And never came to find Maura again, or her sister... Maura shot up from her chair, grabbing her jacket from the back of her chair. "Calm down, Maura." she mumbled to herself. "Heart palpitations," she gripped her wrist to take her pulse, while her other hand swept across her sweaty brow. "Dypsnea." Maura sucked in as much air as she could; she felt as though someone was sitting directly on her chest. "Vertigo." she gripped onto the side of her desk, trying her best to pull herself together. She squeezed her eyes shut and let her body rest against the desk. A feeling of dread swept over her – she really was that unwanted. Hope never wanted her but kept her other children. Constance never wanted her. Maura had been dumped on her. Jane would never want her in the way she wanted Jane to want her.

Her eyes flew open and, suddenly feeling claustrophobic, she grabbed her bag with only a fleeting look at the guards who stood outside her door. She backed up until she was in the loading dock where her bodies came in, and then Maura ran.

She just kept running.

* * *

><p>"Peanut butter and fluff sandwich. Order up," called out Jane as she waltzed into autopsy, the brown bags in one hand and her cell phone in the other. She looked around but the room was empty. "Hey, Maur? You back there?" When there was no response, Jane ran backwards and yelled for the guards. They both walked in, their eyes looking around the room as surprised and shocked as Jane. "Where is she?" Jane yelled. "Where the <em>hell <em>is Maura?"


	11. Self Inflicted

Maura wasn't a drinker; in fact, besides her nightly wine or an occasionally glass of champagne, the young medical examiner would hardly consider herself an alcohol lover. No, Maura loved being in control – she loved knowing exactly what she was doing at exactly the right time in exactly the right way, whether it be scientifically or otherwise. She needed that consistency, that reassurance; ultimately, Maura hated the unexpected. And drinking? Well, Maura Isles had never been one to hold her liquor very well. She opted only to drink socially, and never would she find herself so incapacitated by an exorbitant amount of alcohol that she forgot her name or was completely unable to control her actions.

So how she ended up in the Dirty Robber at three in the afternoon, she couldn't tell herself. Or rather, Maura didn't want to acknowledge it. She let herself fall into the farthest booth from the bar, slinking into the shadows of the dimly lit pub. Her only company was the bar tender, someone who Maura had never seen before. This didn't surprise her. The only time she went to the Dirty Robber was late at night with Jane and their coworkers, during the hustle and bustle of the evening after work crowd. This man was not as young or fresh looking as the well chiseled, grinning young college men who tended the bar in the late evenings; no, Pete, as he introduced himself, was older and grayer, his chin covered in prickly white hairs. He had nodded to her when he entered, took her order (a margarita, and then another, and then another) and let Maura be, which was exactly what the blonde wanted. She wanted to be alone. No guards, no Jane, no dead bodies – alone. Thoroughly, unreservedly alone.

It hadn't been easy. It wouldn't be any easier later, either, Maura knew. She took another long sip of her margarita. Jane would come find her. She always did. Sooner or later the tall, havoc ridden detective would come bursting through that door and ask Maura what the hell she was thinking. Maura wouldn't have an answer for her, though. She didn't know what she was thinking. There was someone out there trying to kill her and there Maura was, sitting in a bar, sipping a margarita like she were lounging on a beach. And Jane – _oh, _Maura thought regretfully. _Poor Jane. _She knew Jane would be angry. Furious, even, that Maura had left her security detail on a mere whim to indulge in such a ridiculous beverage. Maura cared about that, she did. She cared about Jane. She cared about Jane's feelings, emotions, problems.

She tipped the drink back and drained the last bit out. The glass knocked against the other two empty ones and she signaled Pete for another. It wasn't that Maura wasn't comfortable with her sexuality. If there was one thing Maura was comfortable about, it was sex. But that this time it was Jane – _her Jane – _her best friend in the world, Jane... it made it different. It made everything harder. As Pete slid her drink across the table, Maura coddled the glass between her two hands, staring mindlessly at the cool green lime wedged onto the rim. The nausea building in the pit of her stomach screamed for her to stop. Her blood ran hot in her veins. She could feel the woozy after-effects of alcohol messing with her head. The sensible side of Maura slid the full drink away from her, letting her body rest against the faux leather of the table booth. "What am I doing?" she whispered, one hand swiping at her warm brow. The phone call with her half-sibling had shaken her. There was no doubt about that. She could fool herself into thinking that this outrageous binge had only to do with her feelings with Jane, but even sober Maura felt herself spiraling out of control, faster than she ever had before. She had a family. She had a sister. She _talked _to her sister.

Her hands crept forward and she took a small sip of the margarita. It was a small sip, just enough to wet her lips before she crashed back down in the booth, overcome with her emotions. Always the weepy drunk, Maura thought bitterly. Across the room the bar door slid open and familiar, heavy footsteps met Maura's ears. She could hear her name being called, feel Jane's hands gripping roughly onto her own bare shoulders. Her tears masked Jane's voice and, seemingly admitting defeat, Jane quit speaking and only held Maura against her own body, letting the waves of tears rock heavily from Maura's heart and crash into Jane's. Maura wasn't sure how long they had sat there, Jane rocking Maura rhythmically against the beat of her own cries. "Maura," she said hoarsely. Maura felt Jane's body pull away – the warmth was gone, the security was gone. It was only replaced, albeit mildly, when Jane gripped her hand tightly, squeezing reassuringly. "What happened?" Maura let one eye pop open; this, she considered, was incredibly brave in herself. She didn't know what she would see when she looked at Jane in the eye. Would Jane be angry at her for taking off? But instead of finding the Rizzoli fire behind those dark brown eyes, Maura found only worry. Compassion. Genuine concern.

"She didn't want me." answered Maura. "But she had _three _other kids."

Jane frowned. "Maur," she stretched across the table and grabbed a fist full of napkins, holding them out to Maura so she could wipe her eyes. Muttering a thank you, Maura dabbed daintily, knowing that it was a hopeless cause to try and not smear her makeup. She was sure it all came off on Jane's shoulder anyway. "She had her other children later in life. She was eighteen when she had you. She wasn't ready,"

"She could have c-come back," explained Maura, dropping the stack of napkins on the table. Pete looked over with rapt attention to the two ladies, but he said nothing, merely taking interest in organizing a sea of glasses. "In the," she swallowed hard. "-the letter, she," she paused again. "-she said she wasn't a mother. She couldn't be a mother. That it didn't interest her," She ripped another napkin in half, the feel of it ripping through her fingers giving her some sense of control that she desperately grasped at. "So why did she go and have _three _kids?"

"People change. They want different things."

There was a long silence between the two. The only noise was the clinking of glasses behind them at the bar. When Maura finally drudged up the words from somewhere in the vast pits of her mind, she spoke softly, almost so quietly that Jane wanted to ask her to repeat it. "Why didn't anyone want me?"

"How could you ever think that nobody wanted you, Maura?" Jane asked emphatically.

"Hope didn't want me," said Maura aggressively, flinging her arm in one direction. "Constance didn't want me," she said, flinging her other arm.

"Alright," Jane stood up, grabbing Maura by the wrist and pulling. "I'm taking you home. You're drunk, you're emotional, you look like hell-" This made Maura look up. "Let me take you home and we will talk about all of this when you're sober." Maura barely fought. Her arms were tired and legs wobbly; she could feel her heavy eyes already drooping with exhaustion. Jane wrapped her long arms around her friend, guiding her out of the bar with a careful eye around them, an eye always looking for any trouble. She waved senselessly at the bar tender, flashing the badge hooked on her belt, a way of telling him that she would be back to pay for Maura's drinks another time. He didn't say anything, just watched the two girls go and continued rubbing the spots from the bar glasses.

Maura slumped into Jane's car fairly easily. Her head rested against the cold glass window pain, her eyes sliding open and shut. Ever so often she would mumble something entirely too incoherent for Jane to understand. It was an easy and effortless drive back to Jane's apartment. They encountered little traffic, and with the exception of a few bumps in the road, at which Maura jumped wildly awake, looking around rather startled, before slinking back down into her sleepy position, the ride was uneventful. Jane hooked her arm under Maura's and pulled, helping the broken doctor into the apartment.

It surprised Jane when, once inside, Maura perked up considerably. The tears began to fall again and Maura slunk down onto the couch and curled into a small ball, her hair masking her face.

"Maur," muttered Jane, nudging Maura and sitting down beside her. "C'mon, let's get you into bed. You just need to sleep this off. Come on..."

"I just don't understand." Maura lifted her head and looked at Jane, brown eyes meeting brown eyes. "I really don't. I can understand a dead body, but I can't understand the decision of living, breathing human being. There are two hundred and six bones in an adult human body, Jane. Cranial consists of eight bones; frontal, parietal, temporal, occipital, sphenoid, and e-ethmoid." she sniffled and continued, her voice rough and raspy from all the crying. "And our brain... we make decisions." Maura stopped, looking confused for a moment. "I can tell you exactly where in the brain someone bled out. I can tell you how long someone's brain was deprived of oxygen. All of that, I can _do_. But I can't tell you, Jane. I can't tell you..." she began shaking her head, turning away from Jane and staring at the door. "I can't tell you why people make the decisions they make. In life, in love, in anything. I can't do that."

"No one expects you too." said Jane. "Hey, look at me. Maura," Jane glowered, bringing a hand up and guiding Maura's face back to her own. "You are brilliant. And yeah, maybe you don't know about the feelings or the emotions or any of the crap, but who the hell cares? You wouldn't be Maura if you did," she smiled, swiping at a tear still resting on Maura's cheek. "Besides, you got me to teach you that stuff. You gotta leave me somethin', Maur. You know everything else." Maura looked down at the floor. "Come on. Bed. Now."

"No," mumbled Maura. "I just want to stay here." she pouted sleepily.

"Maur, this couch is a piece of crap. I got it at the salvation army for 50 bucks, and the pull out bed isn't made. Just get into my bed-"

"You know," she muttered. "I wonder if my mother ever _really _wanted me. Constance, not Hope. Did she just not have the heart to send me someplace else? Is that why she was so... so..." Jane sighed and leaned down, pulling at Maura's arm, hoping the drunken girl would give in. Maura stood, but she didn't move.

Resembling a strong-willed toddler, Maura ripped her arm back from Jane and stood defiantly in place. "We can do this the easy way," smirked Jane. "Or the hard way." Maura hated when Jane used her own words against her. Still, she stood firmly in place, not moving and barely batting an eyelash. "Maura," a defeated Jane sighed. "I wish I could tell you that I know how you feel. I wish I could say that I had some advice for you, or I could help you in some way, but I can't. I don't know how this feels. I know you feel hurt, I know you feel abandoned – hell, you've probably felt that way your entire life. I know none of this is what you want to here. The only thing I can do take care of you, the same you would do for me. That's the only thing I know how to do." she held her hand out once more. "Let me help you in the one way I know how." It didn't take many steps for Maura to fall into Jane's arms. It knocked the detective back a little, Maura's body weight throwing her off balance. And before Jane knew what Maura was doing, and before Maura knew what Maura was doing, their lips met; it was brief, chaste, almost unrecognizable as a kiss – and when the shorter of the two pulled away, her cheeks still tear streaked and eyes still a swollen, puffy red, she brushed past Jane and walked straight towards the bedroom. She was lying on the bed asleep by the time Jane had regained use of her legs. Tugging the covers back and over Maura's body, Jane flicked the light off and went back to the couch, falling backwards and running a hand over her exhausted features.

"What was that?" her voice asked the darkness.

* * *

><p><strong>A big thanks to Laoise Potter (go check her FanFics!) for reading a portion of this chapter before hand and giving me a little feed back. I try and stay as true to the characters as possible and I was a little nervous about having Maura drunk, but <strong>**I think it ended up being okay. :) I hope you agree! This chapter is probably my favorite thus far. Another chapter will probably be up next Saturday. **

**Remember: reviews are saving innocent children from child eating monkey thieve robot ninja warriors. Or something like that. Just tell me what you think ;D haha**


	12. Drive Me Crazy

"I do not feel good." groaned Maura, rolling on her side. Jane pulled the blinds up and let the hot Boston sun seep through the window, warming the room almost instantly. Maura barely protested, though Jane wasn't sure if it was due to lack of energy or complete disregard. She tossed in the sheets a few times more with her arms wrapped firmly around her nauseous stomach. "What time is it?"

Jane laughed a little and offered her the glass of water sitting beside the bed. "8 o'clock in the morning."

"How long have I been sleeping?"

"Since around four yesterday,"

Her mouth dropped and Maura nearly let the glass of water fall from her hands. "Why didn't you _wake me?_ Oh God, we should really be getting to work-" she threw her legs over the side of the bed; she swallowed hard, hoping to push back the waves of hungover nausea she hated so much. Jane gently pushed Maura back onto the bed. Though she wouldn't admit it, Maura was grateful. She could feel the bile rising in her throat. "Work?" she said feebly.

"You are staying home today." insisted Jane, pushing her back down onto the bed and covering Maura with the covers. "No work. No Constance. No Hope. No Irish mob. Nothing. I want you in this bed doing absolutely nothing but... _that. _Laying there. Nothing else." she turned and grabbed the water again, handing it to Maura. "Maybe a little of that. Water, though. No more alcoholic beverages." Maura took a small sip and placed the glass back on the side table. "You know that's the first time I've _ever _seen you drunk," Jane smirked.

Cringing, Maura slid further beneath the covers. "Was it bad?"

"No," lied Jane. "You were just tired. I, uh," she turned and started digging through her closet, pretending to look for some clothes. "You know, got to the bar, you were there. You mumbled something about needing a new pair of shoes and I brought you home." She turned back around, pointing her finger accusingly. "Which, by the way, you don't. I had Frankie stop by your place and pick up your mail and you had three packages from Jimmy Choo's."

"Oh!" exclaimed Maura. "I hope one of them is the ruby silk zebra print pair."

"One of them – wait, does that mean you ordered more than three pairs? _Really?_" Jane asked incredulously. Maura smiled meekly and brought the blanket up to her nose. "Out of curiosity, how many pairs of shoes do you own, Maura?" There was a long pause in which Maura brought an inquisitive finger up to hold her chin. Jane rolled her eyes. "You know what, I don't want to know. Nevermind."

Maura only smiled. "I enjoy having a large collection." Jane snorted and turned back to her closet, examining her modest selection. "What?"

"I've just never understand it,"

"Never understood what?"

"How anybody in their right mind can spend $500 on a pair of shoes."

"Jimmy Choo's cost far more than $500, Jane." said Maura before she could stop herself. She cleared her throat, an attempt to brush over her previous statement. She knew how sensitive Jane could be regarding money. "Why are you getting dressed? I thought we weren't going in today?"

"Ah, well, I..." Jane trailed off. She grabbed a top from her closet and turned back to Maura. "I have to go in. We got a lead," she scratched the back of her head, trying to find a way to tell Maura they might have found her shooter without getting her hopes up. "So Frost and I were going to go check it out. It might be nothing, but..." The two met eyes for a moment. "I just don't want to put it off, you know? In case it is something."

"Of course." Maura nodded.

"But," Jane clapped her hands together. "Don't worry, I got you covered." she jogged over to the other side of the room and produced a rather large, bulging bag. She placed that on the bed and then pulled out another, this time a duffel bag. The duffel bag was tossed across the room and landed with a plop next to Maura on the bed. She struggled up from the confines of her sheets and began unzipping it. "I had Frankie stop at your place yesterday," Jane explained. "Got you some clothes."

Maura looked up apprehensively. "Frankie was in my bedroom? Going through my drawers?"

"What?" asked Jane. "You got a dead body stashed in your closet for practice or something'?"

"That's highly unethical," chided Maura. "And-"

"Don't worry," Jane chuckled and sat on the edge of the bed. "Ma went over there with him. Frankie didn't go anywhere near your room,"

"Hypothetically speaking," said Maura playfully. "What would you do if I did have a dead body in my closet?"

"Arrest you, obviously." toyed Jane.

"You would arrest _me?_"

"I'd even use the handcuffs." Jane paused for only a millisecond, her brain catching up with her mouth. Stuttering slightly, she added: "And the siren."

"What's in the other bag?" asked Maura, breaking through the tension.

"Ah," Jane stood again and grabbed the bag, dumping its contents on the bed. "Hangover food."

"Pardon?"

"You know," Jane waved her hand around for a second. "You know, like, food. That makes a hangover better."

Maura frowned. "I don't think there is any scientific evidence to conclude that," she picked up the nearest box and read it slowly. "...Kraft Mac & Cheese cures or helps a hangover."

"Sure it does!" Jane exclaimed. "What, you're the college girl. You never ate a giant bowl of mac and cheese the night after a party or something?"

"I didn't party."

"Right, I forgot who I was talking to." mumbled Jane. "Look, it's like... it's like a placebo. You think it's going to work, and even though it doesn't have any magical drugs in it or something to make it better, your mind makes you better. It's science."

"That's not science."

"Sure it is. I said the word placebo. That's scientific. Here," Jane picked up another package and chucked it at Maura. She caught it by the tips of her fingers. "Poptarts. They're like magic covered in frosting and sprinkles. There are hot pockets in the freezer and an entire case of ginger ale," Jane dug through the other items spilled out on the bed and one by one picked it up, only to chuck it a little closer to Maura. "We got Reese's, gummy worms, another box of the cheesy stuff, some funyuns, hershey's... oh, and here's a banana."

Maura cocked a single eyebrow and looked up at Jane. "A banana?"

"Yeah," Jane shrugged. "It's got potassium and all that stuff, right? That's got to be good for you. I just figured with all this junk, you'd shoot me if I didn't get you something healthy."

"I appreciate it." Maura laughed. "Really." This was the moment of the morning Jane had been dreading most; the lapse in conversation, the moment where all of last night would slowly creep up on Jane, as though it were a criminal seeking revenge. She shifted uncomfortably, unable to pull herself away from Maura's subtle gaze. Their eyes were watching each other as if neither noticed. The unsaid from the night before crept slowly, methodically, almost malevolently between them. "I apologize," said Maura. "For leaving the department."

Jane shifted her weight to the other foot. "You scared me." she admitted. Pulling away from Maura, she walked into the bathroom and turned on the faucet. Her hands remained dry as she took the time to instead gaze at her own reflection in the mirror. She couldn't face Maura and ask the questions she needed to ask. There was no way she could sit before her and watch Maura crumble again. Even more, Jane couldn't bring up the kiss – not without knowing what it meant first, and without asking, she would never know. Was it a drunken thank you for taking care of her? Was it something else? _She looks at you the same way I looked at her mother. _Paddy's voice echoed through her mind. "Maur?" Jane called out, hoping to keep her voice as normal as possible. "I just... uh, I was wondering if you've given any more thought to Hope." she said clumsily. "If you were going to call her?"

The only sound Jane heard was her own breathing and the running water. She ran her hand beneath it but pulled it back almost as quickly as she let it fall; the water, scalding hot, burned her flesh. Muttering curse words under her breath, she switched the temperature and waited, both for the water to get cooler and for Maura to answer. Just as she slipped her hand beneath the water, Maura answered back. "You know, don't you?"

Jane's heart stopped. "Know?"

"You know that I called the number."

She turned the faucet off and rubbed her hands against the towel hanging off the rack. Leaning agains the doorframe, Jane watched Maura shift from her laying down position to upright. "Yeah, I know. That why you took off?" Maura nodded. "Could've told me,"

"I know."

"You okay?"

Maura shook her head. "No, but I will be."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Did I say anything to you last night about it?"

"Well," Jane bit her lip. "I mean, it depends on what you mean by _say anything..._"

"Jane."

"You mostly cried."

"I'm sorry,"

"Don't."

Apprehensively, Jane moved forward. She was slow; for some reason, she thought that if she moved any faster, she could startle her friend, but really Jane knew it was herself that she was afraid of startling. She took her place next to Maura, sliding as close as she willed herself. Maura cradled into Jane's arm, basking in the warmth that her friend provided that no blanket could ever give a human being. It took Jane seconds before realizing she had to exhale. _Breathe, _she reminded herself. _This is okay. She's okay with this. She moved towards me. You're not doing anything she doesn't want, Rizzoli. Breathe. _She felt Maura's hand come up and one of her short arms wrapped around Jane's waist. Jane froze. "Jane?"

"Yeah?"

"Is something wrong?" she looked up, her eyes barely able to mask her concern. "Your muscles tense and you seemed to have stopped breathing."

Jane let out a long breath, covering it with a nervous laugh. "Sore muscles," she lied. "Worked out yesterday."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Maura quickly pulled back. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"I have to get to work." Jane leapt from the bed. "Frankie should be here in a few-" she heard the door open and Frankie drop his keys.

"Frankie?"

"I'm not leaving you here alone, Maur. No way." Avoiding eye contact, Jane grabbed up her keys from the side of the bed and waved behind her, not turning around. "I'll see you later. And no sneaking out!"

Maura heard the door to the apartment shut and Frankie shuffling around in the kitchen, surely looking for something to eat or some coffee. She rested her head back onto the pillow, squeezing her eyes shut and taking a deep breath. "What am I doing?" she asked herself again, for the second time in two days.

* * *

><p>Jane took out most of her frustration on the streets of Boston. She and Frost were following their lead; the name had come back from the prints on the casings and Jane, not even wanting to wait another second, demanded that they go over to the house the name was listed at. Jane also insisted that she drive, much to Frankie's dismay. He knew Jane's moods, and this one – a confused, brooding, angry at the world type of mood – wasn't good for her driving skills. She pulled up to the curb, slamming the gear stick into park, and was out the door and walking up the sidewalk before Frost even had the chance to unbuckle his seatbelt.<p>

The house wasn't as old and run down as Jane had expected. The neighborhood wasn't the greatest and most of the houses surrounding it had broken out windows and trash littering the lawn. In contrast, their suspects house had well groomed flowers in a small kept garden just in front of the porch. A black iron fence wrapped around it and an old porch swing, something that reminded Jane of her grandmother, sat idly by in front of a large, open window. Light blue curtains were drawn in front of it.

"Seems a little..." Frost looked around. "Well kept, doesn't it?"

"Probably lives with his mother," growled Jane as she took her fist and pounded on the door. "Boston PD, open up!" They were met with silence. Jane, impatiently tapping her foot, rang the doorbell three or four times. Frost looked at her nervously.

"Are you okay?"

"I just want this case over with," The door swung open just as she looked away from Frost. The woman was old; her reddish grey hair was pulled back in a tight, unkempt bun and her skin, a pasty white, was highlighted by the morning sun, almost giving her the color of a blank sheet of paper. She squinted out her door at the two, a shaky, wrinkled hand clutching the door knob and pushing it open. "Correction. He lives with his grandmother." she muttered to Frost, who only smiled.

"Young lady," she chastised, her voice trembling from age. "Do you have any idea how early it is in the morning?"

"I do," Jane said kindly. "And I am very sorry for that but this is an urgent matter that simply couldn't wait. Does a Seamus Conner live here?"

"What do you want with my grandson?" she asked indignantly.

"We just have a few questions for Seamus." responded Frost.

The old woman eyed him carefully before stepping aside, allowing both detectives to slip by. "My Seamus is a good boy," she said proudly. "Takes care of me every day. Goes to school, does his homework. Nothin' like his worthless father or that whore of a mother." Both Frost and Jane looked at each other from the corner of their eyes, not expecting a woman of her age to say anything even mildly close to the word whore. But something caught Jane's attention even more so than the woman's colorful language.

"Homework?" asked Jane.

"Well of course." the woman spat. "What else do you expect a sixteen year old boy to do with his time?"

"Sorry," Jane said, her eyes growing wider.

"But did you say sixteen?" Frost finished for Jane. The woman didn't answer. She gave three firm knocks to the bedroom door they had been led to. It didn't take long for it to swing open. A cleanly shaven boy answered, his messy, sleep tousled hair a dark, reddish brown. He had a smooth, round face that reminded Jane vaguely of a large baby and his eyes were the purest honey gold she had ever seen. Looking from his grandmother to Jane and then finally on Frost, he gave a lopsided frown and said,

"What's going on?"

* * *

><p><strong>Just kidding about that whole "update on Saturday" thing. <strong>


	13. Feud

Maura crashed back onto the pillows and squeezed her eyes shut. It was just like Jane to take care of her like this, even when she didn't deserve it. Somewhere inside, Maura knew she made a complete ass out of herself the night before – even though she didn't know why, she had the gut feeling that Jane wasn't telling her the whole story. She wondered if it was better this way, not knowing. Maura wasn't used to not knowing something. In fact, she was rather accustomed to knowing quite a lot. Though the social aspects in life never really struck her as information worth retaining, the fact that this was about her – and more importantly, the very image she held rather proudly, deemed itself of great importance. She rolled over on her side, grimacing at the light streaming through the window.

_This, Maura, _she thought to herself bitterly. _This is why you don't drink. _

Her head throbbed. She stretched an arm over to the table by Jane's bed and grabbed the full glass of water resting there. It didn't take long to gulp the entire glass down and, when it was empty, it clanked back into its original place. Maura rolled back to the opposite, less sunshine filled side of the bed and sighed. Not only was she hungover, in a bad mood, and thoroughly confused about her family and love life... she had a babysitter. With as much energy as she could muster, Maura dropped her legs from the bed and clambered up into an upright position, something that she found to be very difficult. When she regained her balance and shoved the nausea building in the pit of her stomach back to where it belonged, she slipped on a pair of Jane's slippers and scampered across to the door.

Frankie was lounging on Jane's couch in the exact position Jane would be lounging on her own couch. It made Maura smile. The two were far more alike than either one would ever admit. Maura knew that Frankie would make as good of a detective as Jane someday. She only wished the older sister would give her brother the smallest chance to prove himself. Taking a few more quiet steps, Maura cleared her throat. Frankie looked up and grinned.

"Ah," he said knowingly. "The hangover appetite has been awakened."

"I just wanted some air."

"There isn't air in Janie's bedroom?'

"There is," replied Maura. "But it is lonely air." she smiled warmly. "Besides, if you're stuck here babysitting me, you shouldn't have to do it alone."

Frankie shook his head. "Unless you got a diaper to change and a high chair to sit in, this is not babysitting." he leaned forward and grabbed the soda from the coffee table, taking a long swig and ending it with a refreshed sigh. "And I'm not getting paid."

"I can pay you." Maura said seriously. "It's the least I can do-"

Frankie laughed and put his hand on Maura's, just quickly enough to stop her from getting up and retrieving her purse. "Maura," he said lightly. "I was joking."

"Right." Maura nodded awkwardly. "Sorry, I-"

"Long night?"

She let out a gush of breath. "Yes."

"Wanna talk?"

Maura bit her lip and relaxed back into the plush sofa. "I don't know what came over me yesterday."

"Jane would kill me for telling you this," started Frankie. "And I'll deny it if you ever bring it up, but... you scared Jane pretty bad yesterday, running off like that. Haven't seen her like that since Hoyt." Waves of guilt crashed over Maura; she turned to Frankie, an apology already spilling from her lips, but Frankie held up a hand and shook her head. "You don't got to apologize to anyone. You've had a tough week," he took another long drink of his soda and nodded his head to the fridge. "You want something to drink?" Her stomach churned at the thought of drinking anything but water. She shook her head and twiddled her thumbs, her brain working as fast as it could to come up with something to say. The throbbing in the side of her head made it difficult to think much at all. "If you don't mind me asking... what made you take off like that?"

Her stomach flipped. "I, uh," she stumbled over her words. "I called Hope. Well, her number."

"She didn't answer?" Maura just shook her head. "Did you leave a message?"

"Kind of."

"Kind of?"

"I left a message..." she sucked in a small pocket of air. "I left a message with my sister."

Frankie's eyes looked as though they could pop out of his skull. "You have a sister?"

"And two brothers."

"Did you tell her who you were?"

"No!" replied Maura, her mouth dropping wide. "I'm sorry. No, I... no. I said I was an old friend."

"Think you're gonna call back?"

"I'm not sure." she said uneasily.

"Do you want to know your brothers and sister?"

Even more uneasily, Maura shrugged. "I'm not sure."

"You sure of anything?" snorted Frankie.

"No." she replied honestly. "No, I'm not. I guess that's why I left. I didn't want Jane to come down there for lunch and find me so..." her voice trailed off. "I don't know, Frankie. I thought when I found out Colin was my brother that was the end of it. I didn't have all the answers, but I had one. One brother. One dead brother. One dead connection. Another something I wouldn't have, but that was the end. Until Colin, I never even thought that there could be anyone out there related to me other than my biological parents. How foolish, right?" she laughed haughtily. "How completely illogical. I do not understand how I could never have wondered if there were brothers or sisters..."

Frankie shrugged. "You were an only child. You never had siblings, but you had parents. Maybe you just wanted to see if you fit in with one set better than the other."

"I didn't have siblings, therefore they would be the anomaly." she muttered quietly. "That makes sense. I can understand that. Perhaps."

"And now?"

"Now what?"

"Do you want siblings?"

"I am not quite sure if that matters."

"Of course it matters." he laughed. "Maura, you have a chance here. You got siblings. Go find 'em."

"They have a life. They have each other. What good would it do to come and disrupt their entire way of living? I can't very well show up on their front door and say 'Hello, my name is Maura and I'm your half-sibling from your mother's relationship with an Irish mob boss. Nice to meet you." I feel that deviate from socially accepted behavior."

"Maybe, but it would be funny as hell." he laughed.

Maura chuckled quietly. "I'm not sure if you are doing a very good job at talking things out."

"Oh and you're so good at it, huh?"

"I would say I have improved considerably."

"Since when?"

"Since meeting Jane." The words slipped from her lips before she could stop them; turning away from Frankie to hide her blush, Maura cleared her throat and stood, making her way towards the kitchen for a glass of water. The truth remained that Maura had improved the social aspects of her life tenfold since meeting Jane. It was never the case that Maura was so socially awkward that she couldn't communicate, but it wasn't a secret that social situations gave her anxiety. She never was the social butterfly Constance wanted her daughter to be. Most events were spent with Maura tucked away in a corner, her eyes peeling words hungrily from the pages of books. When needed, Maura could discuss literature, classical art, the fine wines of the world... but always the little Maura inside of big Maura's head was screaming and running away, off to her world of knowledge. Since meeting Jane, that voice had quieted significantly.

Slowly, Maura was learning how to channel her emotions, rather than locking them away and putting on a fake smile. It was both a curse and a blessing. Frigid water slipped down her throat; it cooled the burning in her cheeks and her heart beat slowed down. _Stop getting so freaked out anytime Jane comes into the conversations, _she thought harshly.

"You know," Frankie called out. "If it's any consolation, I think you change Jane as much as Jane has changed you." This startled Maura. The glass slipped from her hand and crashed against the hard counter top, shattering into tiny shards of invisible glass. Frankie leapt from the couch and ushered Maura out of the way, his other hand reaching on top of the fridge for the small dust pan and brush.

"I'm so sorry," groaned Maura. "I hope that glass wasn't expensive."

Frankie cocked an eyebrow and grinned. "Don't worry. Walmart usually has a two for one sale." he scooped the last remaining glass into the garbage bin and stood, dusting his hands off on his pants. "No big deal."

_No big deal, _Frankie's words repeated in Maura's head. She leaned back on the counter, casting Frankie a small grin. He walked back to the couch and flipped the channel. As quietly as she could, Maura slipped back into the bedroom and collapsed on the bed, crawling beneath the still warm covers.

* * *

><p>Jane, Frost, Seamus and his grandmother all walked into the sitting room. Neither she or Frost had quite expected their suspect to be so young, let alone so innocent looking; Jane hadn't exactly expected a dirty, toothless crook, but certainly not in her wildest dreams had she thought she were going to the home of a teenager. The old woman eyed both Frost and Jane suspiciously as they all sat on the plush, ivory colored couch. Keeping a hard face, Jane latched eyes with the boy and nodded for him to take a seat. He hesitated, his eyes darting over to his grandmother as if asking for permission. When she nodded, he took a seat, his posture something that even Maura would be impressed with.<p>

"Seamus," Jane spoke softly, not wanting to spook him. "Could you tell me where you were Tuesday morning around eight o'clock?"

Again he looked at his grandmother, then finally back at Jane. "School." he said plainly.

"School." Frost repeated. "You sure about that?"

"I had a test." his eyes flashed flecks of gold beneath the bright sunlight shimmering behind them through the window. "History. Nana watched me get on the bus."

"Right." Jane nodded and clasped her hands together, leaning forward. "So can you explain how your prints were found at the scene of a crime?"

"How dare you," seethed the old woman. A frail hand came down and clutched her grandson's shoulder. She braced herself, her legs wobbly both from her weak bones and the anger pumping through her veins. She raised her arms up in a shooing matter, throwing her fingers at the door and glaring at Jane and Frost. "I invite you into my home, let you sit on my _couch. _I just cleaned that couch, you know. Accusing my grandson of a crime," she scoffed. "He's not his father, you hear. He's nothing like his father! He's a good boy, a kind boy. He ain't no _criminal scum._"

Jane stood up and stood face to face with the woman. "Why don't you tell me about his father, then. What's he done?" She watched as the short old woman's eyes turned coal.

"That's none of your business." she muttered gruffly.

"We never did catch your name," Frost stood from the couch as well.

"Nessa." she said stubbornly. "Not that it's any of your business."

"Nana," Seamus muttered from behind. "It's okay. I can talk with the detectives."

"You'll do nothing of the sort," snapped Nessa. "They're meddling in our business. You'll be goin', now."

"I'll talk with you." Seamus said directly to Jane.

Nessa turned her hand to Seamus and grabbed the collar of his shirt. "To your room,"

"Hey!" shouted Jane, stepping over to slide herself between Seamus and Nessa. "Back off. You touch that boy again, I'll have you collared for child abuse." She knew it was an empty threat, but it was enough for Nessa to take a step back away from her grandson. Jane turned unsympathetically away from the grandmother and crouched beside Seamus, who was still sitting emotionless in the armchair. It seemed odd; not even a flash of anger, hurt, or surprise came across his face when either Nessa grabbed his shirt or when Jane stepped in. Frost stood behind Jane protectively, though there was no real threat on the grandmother's part. Jane found it sweet, how protective Frost could be at times, but also irrationally annoying. "What do you know about your father? Got a name for me?"

"Frank Lynch."

Startled, Jane stood up and looked back at Frost. When she saw no recollection on the darker man's face, she looked back down to Seamus. "Your dad is Frank Lynch?" He nodded curtly. "Alright," she sighed. "I need you to come down to the station with me for questioning."

"Oh no, no, no!" chimed Nessa. "No he will not! Is he being arrested? If he isn't being arrested-"

"Look," snapped Jane, whirling around. "This can be done the easy way or the hard way. Your grandson is a prime suspect in the attempted murder of Boston's chief medical examiner. I have a detective in the hospital and your grandson may be able to tell me why the hell he is there. You can either come with us now in your own car, or I can arrest him right here, throw him in the back of _my _car and take him downtown, sirens blaring. But I promise you," her voice lowered. "It would be greatly against your best interests to fight with me today, _Nessa._" Jane looked at Frost and nodded towards the door. "See you down at the station." she flashed a quick smile and busted out the front door.

Jane was half way across the lawn and to the car when Frost caught up with her. "Hey!" he shouted, reaching out to grab her arm and slow Jane down. "Hey, who's Frank Lynch?" Jane stopped at her car door and turned back to face the house, watching and waiting to see the front door swing open again. She wasn't leaving until she saw Nessa and Seamus piling into their car.

"Back when we first found out Doyle was Maura's father, I did some digging." she said nonchalantly, her eyes focused on the house. "Wasn't that up to date with the Irish mob, you know? Paddy Doyle's father was murdered in '79. Rumor has it that it was Doyle's right hand man that had him axed off. He, uh, _wanted the thrown, _so to speak. That man was Redman Lynch. Redman didn't last long. Someone went to the police with the information. To this day, it's an empty report. Witness who overheard Redman talking of the hit disappeared shortly after. Didn't want trouble."

"Or was murdered,"

Jane nodded. "Or that." she admitted. "That left Doyle and Redman's son, Cormac. Doyle got wind of what really happened with his dad. Lynch was out of the equation."

"He pushed him out?"

"Yup." Jane perked up as she saw the front door swing open and the sullen looking family walking slowly out towards the small Ford car parked in the driveway. "Cormac had one son at the time."

"Frank Lynch?"

"The very same." Jane jingled her keys and slid in the car. When the two were buckled in, she revved the engine and took off down the street.

"So you're thinking this is revenge?"

"Redman Lynch was murdered just weeks after it went public that he might have had something to do with the older Doyle's death." explained Jane. "And Cormac? He had to get the hell out of town before he ended up the same way. Took his son and wife with him. I'm guessing good ol' Frank decided to follow in his father's footsteps, judging by the way his mother talks about him."

Frost scrunched up his face. "But why would Seamus want anything to do with the feud? I mean," he glanced behind them to see if their car was still tailing their own. "He's just a kid. His dad didn't even really have anything to do with it. He was just a kid himself when it all went down."

"Why do any of our criminals do the things they do?" asked Jane half-heartedly, making a sharp left turn. "You saw that kid," she chanced a look at Frost. "That kid... he gives me the creeps. Like, super polite kid by day, cat killer in dark alleys by night. We saw he is the prime suspect in an attempted murder and he barely bats an eyelash. People have killed for less than a decade old family feud. He sees Maura's name in the papers, sees where she works, sees she's the daughter of the man who might have killed his great grandfather and made his grandfather make a run for it his entire life... you gonna say you wouldn't be a little pissed off? Here," Jane tossed him her cell phone. "Call Frankie and check in on Maura."

"Why don't you do it yourself?"

"Just do it."

"You and Maura fighting already?" he smirked.

"No," snapped Jane. When Frost didn't say anything, she turned and found him grinning at her. Jane smacked his shoulder. "No! We're not fighting! Just pick up the damn phone and call, God. You're worse than my mother sometimes."

* * *

><p><strong>School is eating away at my soul. <strong>


	14. Partners

"Hey," muttered Jane as she and Frost pulled in front of the department. She put the car in park and leaned back in her seat, turning her head to look at Frost as nonchalantly as possible. "Why don't you take this interrogation? I have some things I need to do." Frost unbuckled his seatbelt slowly and looked at his partner, her words sinking in as slowly as his movements.

When the seat belt clattered against the plastic frame of the door, Frost said, "You never pass on an interrogation. I would have thought you'd want to be in there, considering this could be the guy that took a shot at Maura."

"Yeah." she sucked in a long breath. "But, you know, I think you can handle it. If something happens, just call me."

"Where are you going? Back to your place to see Maura?"

"I think I'm going to go see Korsak."

"He's fine, you know." he said. "Asked about you a couple times, the case, Maura. Doctors say he can come home in a few days. They wanted to give him a few more days of recovery." Frost didn't move from the car. He waited for Jane to say something, and when he realized that she wouldn't, he began gathering his things. "It wasn't your fault, Jane."

"I never said-"

"No, but you got that look on your face. Jane, you need to stop feeling so responsible for everything."

"I don't-"

"Yes," interrupted Frost. "You do. Don't insult me by telling me you don't feel responsible for Korsak being in that hospital. You think it should have been you. But Jane," he opened the door and stepped up, taking in the fresh Boston air before turning back and crouching low enough in the doorway so Jane could see his face. "The world isn't on your shoulders. You don't have to protect Maura by yourself. I know you feel like you have to but..." he looked down, then back up. "Just trust us a little. We all love Maura. You're not in this alone,"

He didn't let Jane respond. He stood up and pushed the door shut, making his way across the street to meet their suspect and his grandmother at the department's doors. Jane took a deep breath and put the car in drive, taking off towards the hospital.

* * *

><p>The hospital doors slid open and Jane walked inside. She had never particularly enjoyed going to the hospital, even though she did frequent them quite often as a child. Between her broken bones and her brothers' broken bones, it was a rare moment in time where the Rizzoli family wasn't shuffling one child into the family car for a quick splint, x-ray or cast. Jane was the worst offender; it always drove Angela crazy seeing her daughter rough house with the neighborhood boys, and it nearly broke her heart the day Jane came home with a torn, muddy dress from playing football with her brothers and their friends on a rainy Boston summer day. Jane never could shake the look of her mother's face out of her mind. It was, as Jane recalled, the most horrified, angry Angela expression she had ever seen to that day – and Jane, completely nonchalant, made a comment about how Angela never should have bought her that dress, and walked straight to her room and closed the door.<p>

Jane chuckled to herself and nodded to a nurse she recognized, not from the times she visited as a child, but from the time she stayed in the very same hospital after shooting herself. She had gotten to know the doctors and nurses pretty well in that time; whether she wanted it or not, being a Boston detective – and a paper and ink hero – got her special treatment, and Jane almost always found little snacks or extra pillows in her room after hours of grueling physical therapy. She was never sure if she liked it, the special treatment, and she knew that it certainly had to do, in part, with both Angela's incessant harassment of the nurses to make sure her Janie was taken care of, as well as Maura's constant checking of her chart and conversing with doctors over every detail. At times it was like having two mothers, and Jane had a sudden appreciation for silence that she never had had before.

"Jane Rizzoli," a voice called out from behind. Jane spun around and came face to face with a grinning, greying man, his hand outstretched towards hers. "Don't tell me you've been shot too." he joked.

"I don't think I would be standing here if I were." she flashed a fake grin and shook his hand. "What are you doin' here, Johnny? You need money or something?"

His eyes narrowed a bit and his thick, bushy eyebrows wiggled as he coughed, the result of too many years of smoking. When he had finally caught his breath, he looked back up at his counterpart and frowned. "Came to see Vincey."

"Vincey." Jane reiterated. "You don't come see Vince unless you want something, Johnny. Everyone knows that. What do you need? Couple bucks?" she fished inside her jacket for the leather wallet she kept with her, but he put up a protesting hand.

"You don't seem to have a lot of faith in me, Detective. Guy can't come see his brother?"

Without breaking her smile, she shook her head. "Not when it's you." Jane broke open her wallet and peeled apart the folds, finally taking out a crisp twenty dollar bill and stuffing it towards Johnny's fat, clenched fingers. "Just take the money and leave." she said gruffly. "And let me make something clear, John. Vince is my partner. He is up there lying in a hospital bed after being _shot. _You think that's a good time to hit him up for money?" Jane seethed. "That's the only time you even come around here. Now take the money, go get your weed, and get the hell out of here."

"You know, I always liked you, Rizzoli." he growled. "But you've got the tongue of a snake."

"At least I don't slither like one." she tilted her head towards the door. "Get out of here." He faltered for a moment, an internal battle waging inside his head; say something back, or take his pride and leave? Finally the man turned away, a limp to his step, and hobbled outside of the hospital and wandered somewhere up the walk until Jane could no longer see him. She turned around and punched the elevator button, once again finding herself worked up and angry. _I swear, _she thought bitterly. _It's the only thing I'm capable of now._

"Well look who decided to finally show up." Korsak said playfully as Jane walked in the room. She grinned and punched him lightly on the shoulder. She sunk back into the hard leather chair by Korsak's bed and kicked her feet up to the plastic railing. "I was beginning to wonder if I was hallucinating and you turned into a young black man, with how often Frost was coming up to visit. Kid hasn't left my side," he grumbled.

"He likes you." Jane smiled. "You're like... you're like a _grandfather _to him."

"You can leave if you're going to be mean."

Jane grinned and picked up the remote, flicking on the television. With her eyes focused on the screen, she asked him: "So, how are you feeling?"

"Better than you look."

"I can leave if you're going to be mean."

"You look like hell," he said seriously. "Bags under your eyes. You getting any sleep these days?"

"Don't parent me." Jane muttered, her voice wavering between a joke and seriousness. "I'm fine. Maura is staying at my place and she likes getting up early."

"How is the doc?"

"Scared." she said honestly. "We thought we had a lead today, but..."

"But what?"

"It's just a kid, Korsak. Sixteen."

Korsak snorted. "You're joking? Well, kids killing kids, kids killing medical examiners... it's a stretch, but..."

"Nope." she replied. "But, uh," she paused for effect. "You know Doyle's cases better than me. You know Redman Lynch?"

He nodded. "Yeah, wasn't he the guy that everyone thought murdered daddy Doyle?"

"The very same. This kid is his great grandson. Cormac Lynch took his son, Frank, and wife out of Boston and laid low for years. Frank has a son. That's this kid."

"No kiddin'," It was silent for a few moments. A nurse came in and brought Krosak his lunch, and Jane had to laugh when he pulled up the plastic lid and grimaced. None of what was on the plate looked very appetizing. "Got me on rabbits food." he grumbled. "They say my cholesterol is too high. Come in with a bullet wound and come out with a new diet." he poked at a mushy cooked carrot, then dropped the fork and pushed his tray away. "I'll eat whatever Angela brings up. Did you bring the kid in?"

"Frost is talking with him now. His grandmother isn't making this easy. Angela?"

"I wouldn't expect her to." he said earnestly. "Back when Redman Lynch was murdered, things went batshit crazy here in Boston. Everyone knew the Lynch family was part of the mob but, just like the Doyle's, there was a damn thing the police could do to prove it. Cormac taking off was a huge affair. The Doyle family was quieter after that. People talked about it for a long time, you know? People who knew the Lynch family. Everyone agreed that Cormac's wife had a temper. Can't imagine she's changed much."

"Yeah, that's great, she's annoying. Angela? As in my mother Angela?"

Korsak looked away. "She's visited a few times. Being nice, you know."

"Yeah, she's nice. You're nice. I'm nice. We're all nice. But how nice are you being to my mother?"

"Ah, c'mon, Jane. You know me better than that."

"Well she's bringin' you lunch in the hospital, you got that smile on your face-" she pointed at him and wiggled her finger. "Yeah, that one, right there!"

"What?" he said defensively. "A guy can't smile?"

"Are you and my mother..." she scrunched up her face. "-dating?" When Korsak didn't say anything, Jane leapt up from her chair and threw her arms up. "Oh my _God, _you are!"

"We are not dating. We are two people who happen to spend a lot of time together."

Jane smiled sarcastically. "You're dating. Why wasn't I told about this?"

"Well, I just figured... you know... with everything goin' on..." he trailed off. "You know, and I didn't know how you'd feel. We're partners, Jane. And you don't talk about your dad much, and neither does your mother for that matter, and I don't want you to feel like-"

"My dad took off. Nobody has heard from him." Jane said dully.

"That's gotta be rough."

"It is what it is." she shrugged. "Look, we could all do with a little good news these days. I'm happy for you guys, honestly."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Well that's good to know," he chuckled. "I was afraid we would turn out to be the next you and-" he stopped mid sentence, his eyes growing like large saucers, and he pressed his lips firmly together. Jane's interest was peaked, however, and she looked straight at his wide, surprised eyes and narrowed her own.

"Me and who?"

"You and, you and that Dean."

"How would your relationship be even at all similar to me and Dean?"

"These pain killers make me all loopy. Must be thinkin' of someone else."

"Yeah because I've got an open for business stamp on my forehead and guys are lining up." she quipped. "Hey," she smacked his arm. "I got rid of your brother for you today. You owe me."

"My brother? Mike or John?"

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." she said in a sing-song voice, plopping back down on the chair behind her and folding her arms triumphantly. Truth be told, Jane wasn't sure if she wanted to hear what Korsak had to say – more often than not, Korsak was right about things, even if Jane didn't want to admit it. It was unsettling. He looked just as uneasy as she felt, and after thinking it through, he let out a long sigh and twiddled his fingers back and forth.

"Look," he started off. "Your mother and I didn't want to be the couple that ignores their feelings because it might upset some people, you know? You or Frankie, Tommy... we didn't want anyone to feel uncomfortable. We didn't want to hide our feelings, though, either, or not acknowledge them or push them away. At our age, Jane, when you feel somethin' for someone, you just gotta go for it, 'cause you don't got a whole hell of a lot longer left. Life's short."

"I'm still waiting for how this relates to me."

Again, he hesitated. "You can't think of one person who you might be repressing feelings for?"

Jane swallowed and turned away a bit. He couldn't be talking about... "No." she forced the word from the back of her throat, not entirely understanding why it was so difficult to say. "No, I mean, yeah I guess me and Dean have some problems. If we were to ever get back together, _which we wouldn't, _it would hurt a lot of people." she took a moment to think. "Especially Maura." Something flashed behind Korsak's eyes when Jane said Maura, but she turned away from him and ignored it. Her mind fought valiantly to not remember the kiss from just last night, but she was fighting in a losing battle. She knew exactly what Korsak was getting at.

"Not Dean, Jane."

"It was Johnny." Jane said quickly. "Johnny came up. Gave him a few bucks so he could get his weed and get out of here," she combed a hand through her hair.

"Jane-"

"So anyway," she stood up and straightened her jacket. "I've got to get back."

"Oh come on, you've only been here for a couple minutes!"

"Don't ever expect me to call you dad," she said, a fake smile plastered across her face.

"A daughter wouldn't treat her father like this!" he called out after her as she made her way out of the room and back out down to her car.


	15. The Green Monster

Jane half expected to walk into her apartment and find Frankie asleep on the couch and Maura in a hangover induced coma. She had a bag of greasy burgers under one arm and, in the other, a folder of papers heavy enough to throw her back out three times over. She uncomfortably maneuvered her body to unlock her apartment door, balancing the precariously packed folder on her knee and holding the fast food bag clenched between her teeth. When the door finally flung open, the bag dropped from her mouth and she had to stumble and catch the folder before it fell to the ground. Frankie and Maura were both sitting on the couch, their feet propped up on the coffee table, and a basketball game playing on the television. Each were laughing and Frankie was making a wild gesture at the screen.

"See that? Did you _see _that? That was a foul!"

"That was most certainly a foul," agreed Maura, nodding her head and leaning forward to grab her glass of water. Jane cleared her throat and they both turned around. "Jane! How was work?"

They looked good together.

"Clearly not as fun as being at home." Jane eyed the mess of wrappers strewn out on the coffee table and the two nearly empty bowls of mac and cheese. "Brought burgers," she tossed the bag on the counter and yanked open the fridge, going straight for the fresh bottle of beer. She popped it open and took a long drink; this was what she needed. "You two seemed to have had fun,"

"Frankie was teaching me about basketball."

"She's a quick learn,"

"Jane, did you know-"

"-yeah," Jane cut her off. "I probably did know. I'm the one who taught this goon how to play basketball." she gestured her thumb at Frankie and took another long sip of her beer. Maura and Frankie remained silent. The male Rizzoli leaned forward and muted the television then stood, stretching out his arms and shaking out his cramped legs. "You goin'?"

"Ma and I are watching Desperate Housewives tonight," he said dully. "She made me promise I would be home in time."

Jane stifled her laugh, shook her head, and bit her lip. "Well have a good time, Francesca. Don't forget to pick up some ice cream and tampons on the way home." She ducked just in time as Frankie sent a pillow hurling at her face. She laughed and slapped him on the shoulder, pushing him further towards the door.

"You know, you laugh now, but one day-"

"-one day it will still be funny."

"Oh, Frankie, before you go." Maura stood from the couch and ran over to the siblings. "Thank you for staying with me today. I had fun." Jane's eyes darted from Frankie to Maura and back again. The longer the very brief silence lingered from when Maura ended her sentence, the narrower Jane's eyebrows became, and the more confused she felt.

Frankie nodded nonchalantly, grabbing his coat from the rack and slipping it on. "Anytime. Need me tomorrow, Jane?"

"No." she said shortly. "I think I'll take Maura to work tomorrow." Two minutes of small chat later, Frankie was somewhere in the apartment building walking down flights of stairs and making his way to his car. Jane and Maura moved in the uncomfortable silence of the apartment; Jane unwrapped a burger and took one large, tantalizing bite. Maura politely declined Jane's burger offer; she referenced the mac and cheese bowls and explained the dinner she and Frankie had made. As Jane ate, Maura picked up all of the wrappers and dishes, taking her time to wash each bowl and pot so as to not finish her project before Jane was done eating.

"Thank you for the snacks," Maura said, sliding onto the barstool next to Jane and resting her head on her hands. ""I was not entirely sure about trying the Twinkie Hostess Snack that you left, but Frankie assured me that it was simply a cake like snack product."

"Well if Frankie said it was okay," quipped Jane, grabbing a cold fry and breaking it in half. Maura wasn't aware of the irritation behind Jane's words and she continued on with their conversation, utterly unaware of the brooding jealousy arising from the pit of Jane's stomach.

"It was surprisingly nice getting away from work for one day, even considering the circumstances."

"I'm sure you had a great time with Frankie."

"I really did. At first I thought it would be socially uncomfortable. Not that your brother makes me uncomfortable, but I simply haven't spent much quality, personal time with Frankie and I was not exactly sure we would have anything to talk about. You were, I assumed, our only common interest. That and our work," Maura stood and walked to the fridge, pouring herself more water. "But it was not as I expected. You and Frankie are very much alike, you know."

"Great." grunted Jane.

"It is truly fascinating how similar you are." she fawned. "Even your mannerisms. You are both very enthusiastic about sports. You swear quite a bit. Then there are the physical features. Strong jaw line, dark hair, dark eyes."

"So since you aren't dating Tommy you're going to date Frankie?"

Maura's mouth dropped. "Pardon?"

"You've got that look on your face." she wagged her finger at Maura, pointing. "The 'I want to sleep with someone', look. You want to sleep with my brother. Again. Well, Maura," she said bitterly. "I only have two brothers so you better pick right." Jane stood and dumped the rest of her beer in the sink, her thirst gone and with it her willingness to say anything else on the matter. She turned around and saw the dumbstruck look on her best friend's face.

"I do _not _have a particular look on my face when I want to have intercourse with someone," she retorted. "And for your information I have no intention of ever sleeping with either one of your brothers and the thought of Frankie and I never even crossed my mind."

"You thought about sleeping with Tommy."

"Yes, Jane. I thought about sleeping with Tommy for a _split _second. But I pushed him away. I never – I wouldn't have done that, and you know it. How dare you bring that up again. I told you. I would not risk our friendship, our _relationship. _I wouldn't risk you!" Maura twisted her body, fully prepared to walk away from Jane, but she turned back. "Why are we even _talking _about this? This was months ago."

"Because I come home and you and my brother are getting cozy on the couch!"

"You are insane." Maura turned and walked straight into the bedroom, her arms stretching in every way to collect miscellaneous items of hers that were strewn across the room. Jane followed at her heels.

"What are you doing?"

"Leaving." she said bluntly.

"You can't leave."

"Maybe I'll go to Frankie's," Maura muttered sarcastically. "Watch some Desperate Housewives with him and your mom. Wait, remind me. Do I want to sleep with her too? Apparently I'm not aware of my facial expressions so could you let me know?"

Jane groaned and sat on the bed, cradling her head in her hands. "Okay, okay. Just... stop." she grabbed Maura's wrist and pulled her as she passed by. "I'm sorry."

Maura tugged away. "I don't want to sleep with everyone I see, Jane." she whispered. "That hurt." Jane's heart beat quickly; what had she done? "And I would never do something to intentionally hurt you. Being with one of your brothers.. Jane, that would hurt me just as much as it would hurt you. I can't. I would never-"

"-I know." mumbled Jane. "I'm sorry. Bad day."

The blonde took a seat next to Jane on the bed. "This could be considered a very bad year."

Jane swallowed hard and closed her eyes. The air felt full with all the things left unsaid between them; not just them, but of everyone around Jane. Insinuations from her coworkers, from her family... the words were wrapping themselves tightly around Jane's throat, constricting her, preventing her ability to breathe. The room around her spun and stopped suddenly. Everything seemed to be moving closer and closer to Jane. She stood and shook her head, her eyes closing tightly once more, and when she opened them again she saw Maura standing right in front of her, those great green-blue eyes looking at her in the one way Jane didn't want them to – lovingly, concerned, worried. She turned and ran from the bedroom, ran from the apartment, and ran down the steps until she was gulping in the crisp evening air. She was _jealous. _The idea of Maura being with anybody else scared her. And being with Frankie? Jane sat down on the concrete curb, rubbing her throbbing temples and breathing in slowly. It gave her a headache just thinking about it. The door behind her opened and Jane knew the hand touching her shoulder was Maura's.

"Jane?"

"You kissed me." Jane spoke to the night air. She did not speak to Maura, she did not speak to anyone. Jane only spoke to the air around her. If she made it real by acknowledging Maura behind her, made it real by turning around and seeing that face, she wouldn't be able to keep standing there. "Last night. You kissed me."

**Not a too terribly long chapter but I wanted to give you guys an update.**


	16. Spark

Somehow, Boston was still living.

Slow moving cars passed them as the two crime solvers sat hunched over on the curb, the detective's head resting pathetically in her hands while the medical examiner looked out at the skyline where she could just see the outline of the cities tallest buildings. Little specks of light from windows twinkled back at her like artificial stars; they had sat there so long and so quietly that Maura had counted twelve lights that had been turned off for the evening, the rooms occupants going home to their families, their lives continuing presumably uninhibited much unlike the distraught pair of friends sitting in front of the dingy old apartment buildings.

Maura looked over at Jane like she had a handful of times before. She hadn't moved. There Jane sat, her head bowed low, her fingers clutching the curls of her hair and her knuckles white. There was a part of the doctor that wondered if she should be the first one to say something. It was not as though Maura wasn't aware of what she had done – no, Maura knew she kissed Jane. She realized it much later into the day she spent with Frankie, and she was sure that part of the reason that she had such a good time was in part because Frankie provided the necessary distraction that Maura needed. There was no need to dwell on what she had done, because she was not alone. But now there they sat, Maura's actions slicing through the already thin air, and she wasn't sure what to say or how to feel. Jane was just there. She wasn't saying anything. She barely moved. A few times she thought to check if the dark brunette was breathing, but deciding against the touching idea.

And what could Maura say? That she was sorry? She wanted to physically laugh at the idea. How would sorry even begin to repair the damage she had undoubtedly done to their friendship. There was a line in all friendships that was not meant to be crossed, especially when it came to something like this, when it came to two people of the same sex. She had thrown herself headfirst into an angry, brooding tornado – something Maura had never done before. No, Maura was rational. Maura thrived on logic, on sensibility. It was Jane that was head strong. It was Jane who did first, thought later. And now not only was a line crossed, but their roles reversed, and that added even more confusion to the overall situation, so Maura simply sat and stayed quiet, hoping that sooner or later Jane would say something.

And she did.

"Why?"

* * *

><p>Frost wiped at his eyes tiredly. It had been a long day; the kid wouldn't talk, the grandma lawyered up, and they were all sent home with a slap on the wrist and a warning. The dark skinned detective hummed to himself throughout the vast majority of his day as he sat behind his computer, the sole member of his team, searching through whatever he could to come up with some new information to give Jane once she came back. It wasn't an easy job, and it was even harder when he had nothing to go on and was the only one doing it. By eleven o'clock, the prescient was eerily quiet, office doors were shut and locked, and only an exhausted and overworked Frost remained in his unit, the computer screen his only source of light.<p>

"Dammit," he muttered as his search once again came up bare. He pushed back and rested in his chair, squeezing his eyes shut, hoping that by ding so he would trap any remnants of energy his body had left inside of him. He flicked lazily through a handful of documents he had grabbed from the evidence lockers earlier. Most were old files that had nothing to do with anything. He caught himself up on Patrick Doyle – something he had been meaning to do anyway, and find himself hauntingly impressed by the fact that neither Doyle or many members of his crew had been caught and tried criminally. It seemed as though the younger Patrick Doyle's career had been flawless, up until encountering Jane's gun. He had chuckled when he came to that particular realization; Jane would surely feel proud of herself, although she would never go so far to verbalize it. He knew that the idea of Jane intentionally hurting Maura was as laughable as Patrick turning himself in to the Boston police, so he vowed to keep his mouth shut.

But if there was one positive thing that came from the day's exhaustive police work, it was that Frost learned more about all the things that Jane knew and all the things she had kept unsaid. Patrick Doyle was not the mob boss that his father was. A criminal, yes. But Doyle Jr. was oddly a sympathetic man and Frost couldn't find a single piece of solid evidence to throw him behind bars for more than a couple years. Whether that meant that Doyle hadn't done these things – the torture, the murder – or that he was just incredibly good at covering it up, Frost didn't know, but it interested him in a way that he couldn't quite pinpoint.

The white board had names scribbled all over it with arrows connecting some here and there. Frost stood from his desk and reexamined it. Redman Lynch was a gruff old man. They had his photo wedged in a file with a few others. His eyes were cold and the same shade of silver as his hair. The lines around his mouth and stretched across his forehead were creased down as angry as his frown. He was old, but in no way did he look fragile. If anything, the picture of Redman gave Frost a thirst to find a picture of the man in his youth. Was he as angry? Was he as strong? His son mirrored the older man in every way – he looked strong, he looked angry, and he was just as criminal as his father. The younger Lynch had a full sat of dark, murky red hair and fat, bushy caterpillars for eyebrows. His face was clean shaven, unlike his stubbly father, and although he was not as muscular, his thick arms looked as though they could crush whatever they needed to crush.

In great contrast to the two angry men, in two separate photos stared Patrick Doyle Sr and Patrick Doyle Jr. The elder Doyle didn't look much older at all. The years had done him well, and though a few lines stretched across his full face here and there, he still had a full head of thick, dark black hair. His eyes were a crystal blue and his nose, a little crooked, was just as pointed as his sons. Maura's father, a younger version, stood strong and tall in the candid photograph that the police department had collected. He looked no older than twenty-five and no more criminal than he did now in present day. Frost hummed and looked back and forth, eyeing each man with interest.

Patrick Doyle Sr. was supposedly murdered by Redman Lynch. Cormac, his equally angry and bitter son, was run out – presumably – by the younger Doyle. And here they all were years and years later with a threat on a Doyle descendent and a Lynch's prints on the bullet casings. Frost frowned and leaned against his desk.

How did they get from the past to the present?

* * *

><p>"Why?" repeated Jane. She still hadn't looked up. Her head was still nursed in her hands. Maura's heart thumped angrily against her chest. She had no answer. Not an answer that would be satisfactory for Jane – a drunken mistake? Something more than that? Maura knew her feelings for Jane were real, but there was not an answer in the world that seemed to be an acceptable answer to give. She scooted a bit away from Jane and let her fingers wrap around the cold metal iron of the step handle and squeezed until her knuckles were white. Would she disappear if she wished hard enough? "Maura," Jane looked up now. She hadn't cried and she did not look angry. This soothed Maura, but still the persistent nerves bounced around in her stomach and the gears in her brain worked and worked and worked, but came up with nothing to say. Her mouth flopped open and closed, much like a fish without water, and for the first time in a long time, Maura realized that she had absolutely no way to skirt around a lie, and she certainly couldn't bring herself to lie in its entirety. So she remained silent and did the only thing she could possibly think – or maybe she wasn't thinking at all – to do.<p>

* * *

><p>"So," muttered Frost, talking to the empty room. "Redman killed Patrick Doyle Sr. The family partnership is broken." he circled his desk and paced the room, letting his brain work through the puzzle. "Paddy finds out his dad was killed by Redman, tells Cormac to cut loose. Him and Nessa take their son, Frank, and got out of town." He rubbed his chin and looked back to the board. "And Frank had a son, Seamus. Maura," Frost grabbed the marker and drew an arrow from Paddy Doyle down, where he then wrote Maura's name. "-she was born in 1977. That's two years after Frank Lynch. So Frank was one when Grandpa murdered daddy Doyle." he sighed. "Paddy is tipped off that his father was murdered by Redman. Redman goes missing." Furrowing his brow, Frost stared hard at the names written in thick blue marker. "Cormac is run out of time. Business is Patrick's."<p>

Frost returned to his desk, kick up his feet, and rested for a moment. "So who told on Redman Lynch? Why does Maura matter?"

* * *

><p>Maura pulled herself back and threw her hand over her mouth, struggling to move as far away from her friend as possible. She shook her head, a way of communicating, back and forth, completely in awe of what she had just done. "I..." she stammered. "I am <em>so <em>sorry." Jane stood in front of her completely shell shocked. She could still feel Maura's lips against hers, the smell and taste of her cherry lip balm screwing with all of Jane's senses. Her eyes were wide and her mouth fell open. What just happened?

"That wasn't exactly an answer." she replied carefully. Her brain had froze and was taking its time to warm back up.

"No, I-" she buried her face in her hands. When she pulled them away, she was stricken with horror. "That is not what I wanted to say. That, it, oh my God."

"That really wasn't saying anything at all."

A hot blush rose from Maura's neck and to her cheeks. "I should go." she insisted. "I can stay at home. It's fine, really. I need to go. I need to think. I need to go home." Maura was down the steps and halfway down the sidewalk before Jane realized what was happening. She took the steps two at a time and wrapped her hand around Maura's arm before she could get any further, pulling her back and to a stop. Maura's eyes were fresh with tears, both from her embarrassment and from the many harrowing thoughts plaguing her mind – would Jane still be her friend? Would she have to find a new job? Jane didn't say anything right away. She took a moment to just look at Maura. Her hair was not in normal rolling waves against her shoulders, but in a messy pony tail, strands sticking to her wet cheeks. Her eyes were streaked red from her salty tears and her arms shook both from her nerves and from the sobs she was holding back. She wasn't made up in her normal designer clothes nor did she have on the thing sheeth of makeup she normally wore. Ultimately Maura looked like a disheveled mess, but Jane couldn't see it. All Jane saw as she stood there staring at her best friend was... her.

Maura was beautiful.

"Don't go." croaked Jane.

"What?"

"Don't leave," she said again. "Stay."

A pause. "Why?"

Another pause. Jane stepped a little closer to Maura. "I don't know," An honest answer. Maura moved a little closer to Jane, struggling to summon her bravery. Jane saw a quick spark flash in Maura's blue-green eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm mean, I know.<strong>


	17. To Serve and Protect

There was a reason that Jane Rizzoli was good at her job.

A very large part of it was her ability to suppress her emotions in such a way that, even if you had known her for her entire life, you would never be able to guess what was going on underneath her long dark tresses of chocolate colored hair. She was rarely unhinged; or rather, Jane did not let herself become unhinged in front of suspects or her coworkers. Maura considered herself lucky to have been one of the few people to ever see Jane cry, though she didn't realize this about her friend until much after the fact. It was her favorite part of Jane: how easily she could pretend like nothing was bothering her, like she was emotionless and calm. Jane was a master of emotional disguise. As Maura fought back tears, a small wave of jealousy hit her. If only she was as collected as Jane almost always was.

At some point during their walk back to Jane's apartment, their arms had linked together and they walked as one. Their hands were meticulously placed far enough away where they would not touch. Maura wondered if Jane could feel how hot her blood was, how fast her heart was beating. Thoughts flitted through Maura's mind but none stopped long enough for Maura to give anything much more than a quick, incomplete ponder. Their arms fell apart as they reached the door of Jane's apartment so the door could be opened. Jane walked in first, followed closely by Maura.

They entered to relative silence. Jo Friday sat curled on the couch, his light snores filtrating through the air, the little guy undisturbed by the evening's events. In front of him, the television was still muted and one small paw rested on the remote. Jane walked over and gently tugged it from beneath him and soon the television was off.

"So," said Maura nervously. Jane looked up at her. The detective wasn't smiling, but she wasn't frowning, either. It looked more as though she were thinking very hard, as if she were lost in a world entirely her own. Her eyes softened and she stepped in front of Maura, not close enough for their bodies to touch but close enough that they could each feel the thumping of the other's heart and hear the slow intakes of breath. "So." Maura said again, a bit more firmly. "Down there," she muttered, looking up at Jane. "-what happened. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize."

"I think I need to."

"Do you regret it?"

Pause. "No." Pause. "Do you?"

Pause. "I don't know."

Maura's heart sunk. "You could have let me leave."

"I don't know what this is," said Jane, her voice low and raspy. "I don't know, Maura, and I'm not going to lie to you. I'm not..." she swallowed and looked away from Maura for a moment. "My job is to protect you. I've already hurt you once and I almost lost you. I won't make that same mistake again." Jane's eyes flashed to Maura's lips and back up just as quickly as they had left her eyes. "I can't do this until I know what I feel or why I feel it."

"I'm not going anywhere." Maura stepped closer to Jane. "And I'm not fragile. You don't have to protect me from everything, Jane, and I don't need protection from you. I'm a big girl." A knock on the door caught their attention. Jane turned and looked, her legs unmoving, Maura's voice still reverberating in her head. Maura looked over as well and when Jane didn't move she turned to face the detective again. "Jane," she said softly, bringing her delicate hand to touch her friend's wrist. "I can leave. If this is uncomfortable for you-"

"No." Jane said firmly. The knock sounded again. This time Jane stepped forward and nudged Maura off to the side so whoever was in the door couldn't see the petite blonde. "Stay over there," she whispered quietly, moving to grab her gun and pull it at her side. She edged closer to the door and let her eye peep through the tiny hole. Her body relaxed and she set the gun back on the table, at the same time letting her hand twist the knob and pull it open. "What are you doing here, Frost?

Jane stepped aside for Frost to come in the apartment. He nodded at Jane and Maura, hearing Frost's name, stepped out from behind the bedroom door threshold. His lips went to form a smile but they didn't quite make it there. For the first time, Jane saw the look on Maura's face – one of confusion, a little bit of hurt, and a lot of guilt. Frost noticed it too. He glanced at Jane. "Did I interrupt something?"

The medical examiner smiled faintly. "No, how are you, Barry?"

"Good," he nodded, still not convinced. He turned to Jane. "Can I talk to you for a few minutes?" His eyes darted to Maura and then back at Jane.

"Anything you have to say to me you can say in front of Maura." said Jane, shrugging.

"No," chimed Maura, knowing she was saving Barry from a difficult battle with Jane. "No, Frost is right. If it has anything to do with my case or who is after me, I could complicate things. I understand, Detective Frost. Anyway, I was thinking of getting some air." Maura turned to grab a coat, not wanting to make the mistake of going outside without one this time, but Jane grabbed her arm. It shocked Maura; the physical contact was the last thing she expected. Honey met chocolate as they stared at each other, an awkward silence playing between them.

"You're not leaving." said Jane haughtily. "I'm not letting you out of this apartment by yourself." her grip on Maura's arm loosened. "Not when someone is after you."

"Oh yes," said Maura tiredly. "I forgot. The great Jane Rizzoli is my protector."

"Okay," Frost murmured. "I definitely interrupted something. I can come back-"

"You didn't interrupt anything!" snapped Jane and Maura, Maura's voice several octave's higher than Jane's low, gravely growl. Frost put his hands up and backed away. Jane, a little embarrassed by their outburst, rubbed her eyes and nodded to the couch, silently telling Frost to take a seat. He took the hint and made his way towards the sofa. Jo Friday popped back out, her eyes wide in excitement at their being another guest, and jumped directly onto Frost's lap. He scratched behind his ear and waited for someone to say something, a bit too frightened by the heightened levels of estrogen in the room to say something himself first. "I'll wait in the bedroom." said Maura quietly. Her eyes caught Jane's once more.

_I'm sorry, _mouthed Jane.

Maura paused for a second. _Me too, _she mouthed back.

"So why are you here?" asked Jane when Maura had shut the bedroom door.

"Look, I'm sorry-"

Jane held a hand up. "Information."

"Have you been in contact with Doyle at all?"

"He visited my apartment." said Jane after a few moments of tense silence. The news barely phased Frost, who had been under the impression that at some point, Doyle would come and show himself. "I haven't seen him since. Why? Is someone asking question?"

"Nah, nothin' like that. It's just," he bit his lip. "Any way you can get in touch with him?"

Snorting slightly, Jane cocked her head to the side and looked at him. "You're kiddin', right? If Doyle doesn't want to be found-"

"I just wondered if maybe he left you a business card or something."

"Oh yeah, I forgot. 1-800-come find me." she rolled her eyes. "The man doesn't have a business card, Frost. His business card is an ice pick to the heart and a puddle of blood. Hardly something you can use to call him with." Jane lowered her voice, afraid Maura was listening at the door. "Look, the only thing Doyle gave me was Maura's mother's name. If he had given me anything relevant to the case, you know I would have come forward and said something. Want a beer?"

"No thanks."

"So why do you want to get in touch with Doyle? Other than to arrest him, I mean," said Jane as she unscrewed the cap to a water bottle.

"I think the key to this case is figuring out what happened when Doyle's father was murdered."

"What would that have to do with anything?"

"Someone was the anonymous tip that gave Doyle the heads up that his father was murdered by one of their own."

"That has nothing to do with us." Jane replied. "And it definitely has nothing to do with Maura. She wasn't even alive then."

"The case never went to trial, Jane. The Lynch family lost everything. They have a lot of reasons to hate Patrick. Redman murdered Paddy Sr., Doyle found out and murdered Redman. He ran Cormac out of town. Their family lost their home, their place in the community, in the mob. They lost all credibility. Cormac and good ol' Nessie lived in a little shack in the middle of no where before Nessa moved back here with Seamus. It's pretty clear that Nessa has a lot of baggage. Cormac was an alcoholic who died of liver failure when Frank was seventeen."

"Tragic, but I don't see where this does us any good."

"This family has a serious grudge on Doyle's family. Now that it's out that Maura is his daughter, who is to say that it wasn't a Lynch that put the hit out on Maura, or who are doing it themselves? We've already got Seamus' prints on the casings. We didn't get much from the interrogation, but look at it. It seems like it's all connected to what happened years ago. This is about revenge. It's about hurting Doyle as much as Doyle hurt the Lynch family."

"But this guy, Redmond, he started it by murdering Paddy Sr."

"I don't think they're looking at it like that." said Frost. "Regardless of what they did, they're going to justify it. But someone killing their own? There isn't any justification for someone else's crime."

"But why the kid?" Jane pursed her lips. "He's only sixteen. What would he have against Maura?"

"I think if anything, we should be looking at his grandma. Think about it. She had to deal with it the most. All that money, all that power – it was gone when Redman killed Paddy Sr., because they were run out of town not long after. Her husband lost it, turned to booze. Then she lost him. Her son," Frost took a deep breath and pulled out a file from the inside of his coat. "Look at this. Frank Lynch? Not as much of a hard ass as his father and grandfather, but he's done his time. Woman lost her home, her family, her life, her son. Frank had Seamus with some girl pretty young. She's not in the picture. Drug addict, locked in a cell for a hit and run at the moment. Seamus was born in an infirmary at a county jail in Arizona. Let's face it, Nessa has a lot of reasons to hate Doyle."

"The woman can barely stand!" Jane shouted. "You saw her! There is no way a little old lady like that can pick up a sniper rifle, shoot a couple times, and get away before the cops caught up. That entire area was canvassed. Besides, Seamus's prints were on the casings."

"We only got a few hits on that, though. Hardly enough to stand up in court. We need a confession." insisted Frost. "-and I don't think the kid did anything, Jane."

"How'd we get his prints, anyway? What's in his file?"

"Shop lifted when he was thirteen. They took his prints then."

"Shop lifter to murderer in three years? You're right. I don't buy it. The kid gives me the creeps but,"

"-not exactly murdering material?"

"I think part of it is that I don't want to believe a kid that young could be that cold." admitted Jane. "We are missing something here, Frost. We just aren't seeing it. Even if this is some revenge seeking hit, why go after Maura now? How would Lynch not know back then that Doyle had gotten Maura's mom pregnant? Let me see those dates," she pointed to another file Frost had laid out. She opened it and read through, counting back on her fingers here and there. "Maura was born in December of 1979. That means she was conceived sometime in May of '79." she hummed. "Paddy Doyle was murdered at the end of May and Redman went missing early 1980, presumed dead. So at some point between the time that Maura was conceived and Redman going missing, someone ratted them out. But regardless, these families was pretty tight nit. How would they not know about Hope? About Maura? So why now?"

"Maybe they didn't know." said Frost. "Maybe Doyle kept it a secret."

"Maybe," muttered Jane, looking back down at the coffee table. "Look, it's late. I'll come in tomorrow early and we'll make some calls. This is the problem when people like Doyle take matters into their own hands," she grumbled, collecting all the files. "We have no witnesses and no records. Maybe I'll give Constance a call. She might know something. Maybe Doyle or Hope mentioned something back when..." she trailed off. "Yeah, I'll talk to Constance." Frost took his files and the two said goodbye. When she saw him get into the elevator, Jane shut the door and locked it – with the dead bolt – then grabbed her gun and made way to the bedroom. She paused when her hand touched the knob. More than likely, Maura was asleep. Jane could avoid going in the room entirely for that evening and leave herself to think out in the living room. Feeling compelled to check on her friend, however, forced Jane to open the door and fall inside the room.

Sure enough, Maura was asleep on the bed, still in the clothes she was wearing earlier. The lights in the room were on. Her hair was sprawled against the white pillow case, still looking flawlessly curled even when pressed against the pillow. Her face looked anything but peaceful. It looked just as it had when Frost had stopped by. She looked so anxious. Jane watched her from across the room, taking in her slow and even breaths, the way her nose whistled sometimes. Sleepily Maura brought a hand to her own face and swiped some hair from her eyes, then resumed her position. Both hands were tucked under her cheek and her legs were curled to meet her chest.

"You aren't making this easy, are you?" said Jane quietly. She pulled an old quilt from the closet and gently placed it on Maura's sleeping form, not wanting to wake the doctor to pull the covers already on the bed on top of her. Jane paused and let her hand brush Maura's shoulder. Why did it feel so wrong to love the woman so much? She grabbed a pair of shorts and an old Boston baseball shirt from her closet and changed quickly in the bathroom, flicking the light off as she came back out to revisit the quiet bedroom. She wasn't sure if it would be inappropriate to crawl into bed next to Maura like they had done so many times before. Was it different now? Were things different? She let herself sit down at the very edge of the bed. Before laying down completely she glanced over to see if Maura was disturbed by the dipping of the bed caused by Jane's body weight. The blonde barely moved. Jane hunched over and finally let her head fall on the pillow. She turned on her side and stared at Maura, whose back was turned to her, and sighed. "I am your protector." she whispered. "I need to protect you. I'll always protect you. And part of that," she swallowed and leaned forward to make sure Maura was still encased in her sleep. "-part of that, Maura, is protecting you from me." Jane fell back and stared up at the ceiling. "I love you too much to let you be hurt by me."

Hours later, Jane succumbed to sleep.

**Real life is interfering with this life, which is incredibly disappointing. **


	18. Wait & Hope

In Jane Rizzoli's world, it was too early to be awake.

She awoke the the sound of her phone buzzing on the side table, but rather than stretching over and reaching it, she stayed frozen on the bed. One of her arms was wrapped around Maura's waist – something she hadn't expected to wake up to at all. The blonde medical examiner was still fast asleep, her soothing, even breaths the only sound in the dark apartment. Jane held her breath. Removing her hand could wake Maura, but she didn't want Maura to wake up and find them like this. Carefully, Jane lifted her arm and snapped it back to her own side of the bed. She waited but Maura didn't wake.

Jane reached over to the table by her bed and fumbled clumsily for her phone, knocking over a box of tissues and a magazine in the process. Miraculously Maura still didn't wake; Jane finally latched onto her phone, pressing the home button and squinting as the bright light blinded her. She had one unread text message from an unknown number. A weird feeling arose in her stomach as she slid her finger across the touch screen and pulled up the message.

_We need to talk. Abandoned docks at noon, in the old warehouse. Come alone._

_P.D._

She looked over to the sleeping woman next to her and frowned. "Maura," she nudged Maura's shoulder. "-hey," she said again, nudging her once more time. The clock at the bedside said five o'clock, and although Jane had told Frost she would be in early, she never quite imagined waking up now, nor did she imagine waking Maura up at this time. In fact, Jane had made it a rule a very long time ago that she would never wake up at such an ungodly hour again and, though there were the few exceptions of times spent with Maura and tough cases where her bedtime wasn't even until five o'clock in the morning, Jane had relatively lived up to her own promise.

Maura stirred next to her and rolled on her back, swiping at her sleepy eyes with one hand and stretching her opposite arm. "What time is it?" she groaned.

"Five," replied Jane, standing up and slipping on a sweatshirt. "I know it's early, but do you mind if we head into the station soon? I need to talk to Frost and I have someplace to be later. I was hoping maybe you could just stay upstairs in the bullpen with Cavanaugh and the other guys while Frost and I go take care of something."

The doctor looked to her friend suspiciously. "Take care of what?" she asked. "Does this have anything to do with your conversation last night?"

"Not really." said Jane honestly. "But I would feel better if you could stay upstairs and not be in autopsy alone."

"I can't come with you?"

"No," Jane said quickly. Too quickly. Maura turned her head and narrowed her eyes. "I just mean, no. Like...no." The longer she talked, the more her brain berated her. Jane shook her head and dug through her drawers for a pair of clean work pants. "It's detective related stuff and you're not a detective."

"I must say, Jane," began Maura. "Your excuses are getting weaker and weaker." Jane opened her mouth to protest but Maura lifted a hand and stopped her. "Don't worry. I am sure I will find something to do today. I'm assuming there hasn't been any bodies, seeing as my phone has barely rung at all..."

"I took your number off the call list for right now."

"Jane!" shouted Maura. "Life doesn't stop because someone is out to kill me."

"No, but life will stop if they succeed." Jane was met with silence. "Look, I know we have a lot to talk about but for right now can we just... can you just... can it just go back to a few days ago? I'm not saying that I want to forget about last night and I'm not saying I don't want to talk about whatever this," she pointed fingers at them both and waved her hands around. "-is, I just... this case, Maur-"

"I understand."

"Do you?"

Maua slinked from the bed and slid across the hard wood floor until she was directly in front of Jane. Her short stature gave her a disadvantage and she had to look up to meet Jane's eyes, and when she did there was not a smile on her face, but another look entirely – something reassuring to Jane, something that consumed her, and something that, although it seemed innocent enough, terrified the detective. Her eyes were poison and Jane was a victim. "I understand," she insisted, her voice hoarse from the short night's sleep. "I'm going to take a shower." she whispered, pulling herself away. "And Jane?" Maura called out as she reached the doorway of the bathroom. "I'm willing to wait for you."

* * *

><p>"Where exactly are we going?"<p>

"Well," said Jane as she climbed into the unmarked cruiser. She hadn't wanted to take a patrol car in case anyone spotted her at the docks. The area had been abandoned for years. B\oats hadn't sailed from the piers in a long time and the only foot traffic around was drug dealers in the middle of the night and the occasional vagabond sleeping under the broken up wooden docks. An old broken down lighthouse sat at the end of the rocky, glass ridden sand shoreline and, next to it, an even older building that had been marked for demolition a few months before. At some point in its history it lived as a prominent shoe factory, but once the area value decreased so did tourists and the area was a complete loss. Anyone seeing a police car down there would immediately know something was up, and Jane couldn't risk it. "We're going to go talk to Patrick Doyle."

"I thought you said that you didn't have a number for him."

"Lucky me, reliable Paddy sent me a text this morning." she said sarcastically, flashing the phone in his direction and tossing it lightly. Frost caught it by the edge of his fingertips.

"It says come alone."

"I know."

"You think Doyle would try to hurt you?"

"I trust Doyle. I don't trust that this isn't a setup by someone else." her eyes darted over to his quickly, taking her eyes off the road for a second. "Maura and I are close. Anyone trying to get to her would go through me. I can't risk it. Hold on," she swung into the nearest convenience store parking lot and parked the car. "Get in the back."

"What?"

"Frost, he can't see you. Get in the back."

"Jane-" Jane's eyebrows furrowed and Frost, knowing he would be defeated, begrudgingly climbed from the front seat into the back. "Would you like me to cover myself with a blanket?" he muttered, a twinge of annoyance laced in his words, the sarcasm weighing heavily in the air. Jane smiled and put the car in drive.

"No, laying down on the floor should be fine." she called out, tossing a spare radio at him. Frost grappled with it and sighed, clambering down to lay in the wedge of space between the front and back seats. "I'll have mine on channel three so you can hear the conversation while I'm in there. If I need you to come in, you'll know."

"Try not to crash," he growled. "And you know how many laws we're breaking right now?"

"When has that ever stopped us before?"

* * *

><p>The air was so thick with sea salt and sludge that Jane practically gagged. She looked over from the safest point on the old collapsing docks, down into the water, where bodies of dead fish floated at the top and slapped against the jagged rocks. She wriggled her nose, the smell of fish decay not at all doing any justice for her appetite. She was even more glad that Frost was left in the car. His stomach was not in any way made of steel and though the fresh, young detective had grown considerably over his time spent at Jane's side, she couldn't help but admit that he was rather pathetic when it came to the repulsive side of the job, even when it was as simple as smelling something less than floral. She walked back down from the dock and came closer to the old warehouse.<p>

From the looks of it, she was there alone. With one hand on her gun, concealed cleverly under the flap of her brown jacket, Jane walked the perimeter of the building. She finally came across an old rusted door in the back, its handle loose and broken and the door slightly cracked. Her foot nudged it and in Jane went, the only source of light being that of the sun streaming through the cracks of boarded up windows and the door that she left wide open. Something beneath her feet crunched as she walked further inside the building. "Hello?"

The door behind her slammed. Jane spun around with her gun pointed in that direction."Anyone with you?" said Doyle quickly. Lowering her gun, Jane glowered.

"Yes, let's alert all of Boston that we're in here by slamming the door!"

"Sorry, the wind," he said feebly. Doyle looked even worse than when he had showed up at Jane's apartment. His face was gaunt and sullen, his eyes tired and bleak. He walked with a noticeable limp and with one hand holding his stomach where Jane was sure the wound was still healing. She noticed the bumpy texture beneath his thin cotton t-shirt: gauze. His hands were grimy and his fingernails were caked with dirt. "Haven't been living the high life lately," he joked, looking down at his own appearance. "Trying to keep a low profile."

"You're losing your touch, Doyle. You can't really be this stupid, staying in Boston. Everyone is looking for you."

"And who is going to tell on me, Detective? You?"

Jane paused. "Depends on why I'm here."

"I made a mistake, Jane."

"Just one?"

"Maura is in danger."

"Yes," she said exasperatedly. "I know that. Which is why I'm a little confused as to why I'm here and not with her."

"No, you don't understand. I made a mistake. Whatever you do, don't tell Maura who her mother is."

"Too late." Jane said slowly. "What are you talking about?"

"Has she called her?"

"Didn't reach her,"

"Don't let her call her again. Keep her away from Hope."

"You're going to have to give me a little more than that." said Jane angrily. "A hell of a lot more, actually. Maura wants to find her mother. She wants to talk to her, get to know her family."

Doyle shook his head and approached the detective, his arms outstretched. He reached to grab her by the shoulders but Jane held her gun up, pointing it directly at his gut in the direction where she had once shot him before. "Listen to me," he muttered feverishly. "I thought it was safe. The past should have been behind me, us, everyone. It's not. You need to keep Maura away from Hope. And you, you detective-" he reached into his pocket. "This is a burn phone. My number is programmed into it. It works the same way the first one did. I know who is doing this, and I'll take care of it. You just take care of Maura." Doyle thrust the phone in Jane's direction but she backed up.

"That isn't how this works. I am the police, Paddy. I take care of things like this."

"This is my war, detective."

"You can barely stand. You look sick. We need to get you to a hospital. Your wound isn't healing. You left before you should have. You're slipping."

"I need to take care of my family." Paddy growled.

"Tell me who is after Maura," she insisted. "I can help, Doyle. Is it the Lynch family? Is it Seamus? Frank?"

Doyle's eyes snapped up to Jane's. "What do you know about the Lynch family?"

"So I'm right. This has to do with them."

"Keep Maura away from Hope."

"Does Hope have something to do with this?" Patrick was hobbling away from her. Jane followed right behind. "Is she dangerous? What does she have to do with anything? Doyle-" she hooked her fingers into his shirt and pulled him back. "Dammit, Doyle. I am trying to protect her," Jane seethed through clenched teeth. "Work with me here. Tell me something or else I can't protect her the way that you want me to protect her."

"Keeping her away from Hope _is _protecting her, detective Rizzoli."

"But why?"

"If I told you that," he grunted. "Neither one of us would be doing our job. Give my best to detective Frost. There was no need to hide him in the back seat of your car. I knew you would bring him." he walked from the door of the warehouse into the blinding sun. Jane frowned.

"Then why did you say come alone?" she called out.

"To see if you trusted me."


	19. Burn, Baby, Burn

"I don't understand." said Maura as Jane finished recounting her meeting with Doyle. They sat on the sofa with their legs tucked beneath them, each on either side of the couch with their backs resting on the arm, frowns permeating their features. "Could it really be possible that I was born from two monsters? Could my mother actually have something to do with someone trying to kill me?"

Jane shook her head. "I don't want to believe that's possible, Maura. But even if it is," she pressed on. "It doesn't matter who your parents are. It matters who you are right now."

"Jane, studies have shown that genetics do play a large role in-"

"-Maura, forgive me for interrupting you, but I don't give a damn what studies say. You can show me all the studies in the world and I will never believe that you have a bad bone in your body," she smiled at Maura, reaching over to grab her hand. "You're good. I wouldn't be your friend if you weren't." Maura glanced down at their hands and back up at Jane who, realizing the line of intimacy she crossed, took her hand back and placed it in her lap. Maura smiled faintly and nodded, not sure if she trusted herself to speak and thank Jane for her words or if it was better for them both for Maura to remain silent. Jane watched Maura's eyes go to the place she immediately recognized as an inner battle and stood, tapping Maura on the shoulder and waving her hand. "Come with me."

A bit put off, Maura stood but she didn't follow Jane. "Where are we going?"

"Want a beer?" asked Jane, ignoring Maura's question.

"You know that I am not particularly fond of beer."

"I thought you liked my beer!"

"I do," insisted the doctor. "But on specific occasions. This does not seem like a beer drinking evening.'

"I would love to know your definition of a beer drinking evening." Jane mused. "Because that is nearly every evening for me."

"Excessive indulgence in alcoholic beverages can result in a myriad of diseases, Jane. Cirrhosis, alcoholic hepatitis, fatty liver disease..." she counted off on her fingers. Maura pursed her lips and stared Jane down as she popped a beer open and took a small drink. "Nearly thirty-five percent of heavy drinkers develop alcoholic hepatitis and ten to twenty percent develop cirrhosis. Not to mention the fact that fatty liver disease rarely has symptoms and nearly all drinkers develop the extra fat in liver cells."

Jane smiled, amused. "Are you accusing me of being an alcoholic?"

"Drinking every night can lead to dependency, yes."

"You have a glass of red wine every night before bed."

Maura sighed. "Melatonin, a natural horomone that the pineal gland produces, helps control sleep. Red wine has been shown to include amounts of melatonin and help induce sleep. Melatonin is also an anti-oxidant which contains cancer preventative properties. Not only that, but red wine can reduce the risk of heart and cardiovascular disease _because _of the anti-oxidants. In moderation, red wine is astoundingly beneficial to your health. The French, although on average they consume far more saturated fats than we do in America, are shown as having far less heart related problems and many attribute that to the consumption of red wine with meals and prior to bed."

"So what you're saying is... if I were to be drinking red wine right now, you wouldn't be giving me a lecture?"

"Assuming you were drinking a modest glass of red wine that in no way could be misconstrued as over consumption, yes. I would be okay with that."

"Maura?"

"Yes, Jane?"

"Are you _sure _you don't want a beer?"

The look on Maura's face alone was enough to make Jane laugh. She set the bottle on the counter and went to the cupboard, pulling down with one hand two glasses and the other a bottle of wine that she kept in the apartment for when Maura stayed with her. She nodded towards the door and Maura opened it for her and Jane led her to the stairs. "Jane?" questioned Maura. The detective said nothing but continue to climb the stairs until they had reached the top floor. Jane, once again, nodded towards the only door on the very small floor and Maura popped it open, her face being met with the cool Boston evening. "We're on the roof." said Maura bluntly.

"You should be a detective." Jane said sarcastically, setting the two long stemmed wine glasses down on the rough ground and taking a seat.

"I'm not sure we should be up here."

"Well I'm not going to arrest myself," Jane shimmied off her jacket and laid it out next to her, patting the ground. "Sit."

"Oh," Maura said, surprised. "No, I don't need to sit on your jacket. Really, it's fine."

"That dress probably costs more than my jacket, five times over. Sit on the jacket." Without protest, Maura bent down and sat, her shoulder brushing with Jane's. Jane popped the cork on the wine and poured them both a modest amount. She waited for Maura to say something about but, when she didn't, only smiled knowingly to herself; Maura only liked to argue for the sake of arguing and sometimes Jane wondered if it was more to flesh out her knowledge on a particular subject, rather than being right or meaning what she said when it came to the argument. "You okay?" Jane asked. "With, you know, Hope and all that?"

"I want to know her, Jane. So badly. I want to know who I am."

"You know who you are, Maura."

"I'm not sure that I do."

Jane frowned and took a sip of her wine, her thoughts mulling around like the swirl of the wine in her glass. "I always liked to believe that my dad and I were so much alike," she finally said. "You know? I didn't want to believe I was my _mother. _I mean, I know she means well, but she meddles in everything. She's so nosy and she just has to know every little thing about everyone. I liked the idea that I was my dad – the strong, silent type. The one who everyone had to guess about." Jane paused and took another sip. "And when my dad left Ma, for a while, I got scared. I kept thinking, if I'm so much like him, when is it my turn to get up and run? Take off when things get tough? When am I going to show who I really am? But after a while, I realized something. I'm nothing like him. I am every bit a part of my mother. All the bad and all the good. I wouldn't be a cop if I weren't. I need to know everything. I have to know everyone's business and thoughts. I am exactly like her." she chuckled and set her glass down on the ground, bringing her hands palm up so she could stare at them. "And I don't quit. I don't walk away. I could have, when Hoyt first came after me. I could have left town, but I didn't. I'm not him, Maura. I'm my mother, through and through." she squeezed her hands tight and opened them again. "I have the scars to prove it. And you? You are most definitely not your father, and I may not know your mother, but I don't think you're much like her either. You're unique. You keep me on my toes."

Maura looked down at Jane's hands and, carefully, her eyes looking up at Jane's to make sure that what she was doing was okay, slid her own hand over top of Jane's. This time neither pulled away. Maura let her fingers slid between Jane's and she squeezed. "You don't talk about your dad a lot."

"The point of that wasn't my dad." Jane grumbled, a bit embarrassed. "I just want you to know that, you know, you're-" she swallowed, trying to find the words. "You're special, you know? You aren't like anyone. You are your own person. You know who you are because there is nobody else like you."

"That could be considered a bad thing."

"Not in my book." Jane squeezed Maura's hand back. The silence that settled between them was surprisingly comfortable. Boston grew darker around them, the stars poking out from behind the few clouds that swam through the sky. The moon had risen at some point, its glow in combination with Boston's bright city lights making it seem earlier that it really was. Maura's head dipped down and fell on Jane's shoulder and Jane knew that she didn't want to move from that spot. Their hands were still intertwined, wine forgotten – both women were lost in their thoughts. It was Jane that spoke first, the questions burning through her mind too uncontrollable to restrain. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

Jane hesitated. "When did you..." she drawled. "-when did you realize that you, or when did you know that-"

"Please just ask the question."

"Your feelings. For me. When did they start?"

Maura bit her lip. "I don't know when they started. I think they were always there.' she answered honestly. "But after you shot Paddy, something changed. I wanted to hate you but I couldn't. It hurt me more to think of never talking to you again, of never being like this." she looked down at their hands and took a breath. "I can't tell you when my feelings started but at some point they did. I guess it just took something big to make me realize it."

"Have you ever been involved with, you know, a girl before?"

"No."

"Oh,"

"During my college years I very rarely associated with my peers," explained Maura. "Though it is often assumed that many dabble in sexual experimentation while attending college, to do so would mean having some form of social conscious. I was alone. I did have fantasies, though." she paused. "Of women." Maura elaborated.

"I gathered that without the explanation."

"Just being sure,"

"But you've never-"

"-had intercourse with a woman? No."

"Maura," Jane cringed. "I didn't – we don't always – _always _the intercourse with you, isn't it?"

"_Fine,_" exasperated Maura. "I have never, _sexually_ or otherwise, been with a woman in any way."

"So then how do you know that you want to be with me?"

The question didn't seem to stump Maura as Jane had hoped. "How does someone ever determine whether or not they wish to be sexually intimate with a person prior to actually committing the acts or beginning a relationship?"

"I don't know." Jane replied honestly. "Luck?"

"There is no such thing as luck." She waited a beat, then continued. "May I ask you something?" Jane wanted to say no, but she nodded. "I know you said that you didn't want to talk about this until the case was over, so why ask me all this now?"

"Maybe it's the wine," joked Jane. "I don't know, Maura. They're questions I needed answers to, I guess. I told you – I'm like Ma, I need answers. I guess I didn't want to go around for the next couple of days wondering."

"Wondering what?"

Jane turned and looked at Maura. "If this was all real."

"May I ask you another question?" Still as nervous as when she asked the first time, Jane's brain was screaming no. She wanted to stand and run away, be the man her father was – but she stayed. Maura's voice was just above a whisper, her lips finely rounded as she spoke. "Do you have feelings for me, Jane?"

She didn't immediately answer. At first Maura thought Jane would pull her hand away, but when the darker haired woman only gripped her hand harder, Maura gained more hope than she had since the night before when they kissed. "I think I always have." murmured Jane. "But like you said," she took a deep breath. "It took something big to make me realize it." She thought back to her first conversation with Paddy, when he said that the way Maura looked at Jane reminded Paddy of how Hope looked at him. She thought it better to leave that out. "But I don't know what that means."

"You don't know what means?"

"Having feelings for you."

"You're likely bisexual, meaning that you have a sexually attraction to both males and females."

"Not _that," _said Jane uncomfortably. "I mean, you know, what to do with these feelings. I don't want to hurt you, Maura."

Taking a chance, Maura leaned in to Jane, their lips centimeters apart. "Who said you were going to?" As Jane leaned in to meet her, each heard glass shattering and the building shook; they both braced themselves, Maura's hands falling to either side of her and scraping against the rough cement of the roof. Jane looked around, her eyes as wide as an owl's. There was screaming somewhere from inside the building. They both stood and flung the roof door open, taking the steps two at a time until they had reached Jane's floor. Smoke billowed out from the crack of the door next to Jane's. She thrust herself at the door, her shoulder working to break down the door, and after two times she found herself inside the apartment. Maura was right behind her. "Jane!" she screamed as fire licked the walls.

"Get out of here!" Jane pushed Maura back and out of the apartment, digging her way further in to look for the screaming. It was rare that she talked to this neighbor. The most she knew was that she was a single mom with a thirteen year old daughter. The screaming grew louder as Jane neared the back bedroom, sweat from the flames dripping down her face.

In the corner was the girl. Tears streamed down her face. She was crouched, her knees pulled to her chest, and nearly unmovable. Jane bent down in front of her and grasped desperately at her arms in an attempt to pull the girl up. Realizing she was in shock, Jane slid her arms under her armpits and pulled, lifting her up with as much strength as Jane could muster. The flames were already growing and fire alarms throughout the apartment building were ringing. Expecting it, Maura was back in the apartment. Her back was turned to Jane and in her hands was an extinguisher, the white foam flying towards the flames, its effect far from instantaneous. "Maura, come on!" grunted Jane, the girls weight finally catching up to Jane.

"Jane, the fire. If there are other people-"

"Take her," insisted Jane. "Look, you need to walk." she said to the girl, pulling strands of sweaty hair from her eyes. "Go with the doctor here. She's a doctor. She'll help you. Maura, _go._" The girl stumbled into Maura's grip. With one last fleeting look, Maura rushed the young girl from the apartment and out of Jane's site. Gripping the extinguisher, Jane pointed it in the direction of the rising flames, her heart following Maura out of the building.

–

**Let me know what you think. **


	20. Fear

**Happy chapter 20! Here's to 20 more! (Just kidding there will definitely not be twenty more chapters to this story.) **

**Love you guys! Thank you for all your reviews! Let me know what you think about this chapter!**

Jane came stumbling out of the building. Her skin still felt as if it were on fire itself. She coughed, the ashy taste of the smoke still lingering on her taste buds. Maura was sitting perched on the edge of an ambulance. Firefighters were already filing past Jane in two lines. She tried to signal them, tell them the fire wasn't too bad, that it was out now, but they streamed past her and up the steps. Maura looked up and saw Jane coming; she was across the street and flinging her arms around Jane before anyone could say anything. Jane patted her back reassuringly, a bit awkwardly – she looked over Maura's shoulder at the girl who was wrapped in a blanket, an oxygen mask clamped around her mouth.

"She okay?" asked Jane, peeling herself from Maura's hug.

"She's scared."

Jane walked over and took Maura's seat next to the girl. "Hey sweetie," she said quietly. "I'm your neighbor. My name is Jane. I'm also a detective for the Boston police. Can you tell me your name?" the girl sat silent. "This is Maura," Jane tugged Maura over closer by the hand. "She works with me too. She's a doctor. If you can tell us your name, we can call your mom and get her here."

The girl looked past Jane and stared at Maura, pulling the oxygen mask from her mouth. "Your name is Maura?" Maura looked down at Jane, who looked back up to her.

"Yes."

"Maura Doyle?"

Jane's heart sunk. "Where did you get that name?" she asked.

"My name is Julie."

"Julie, this is very important." Jane looked at her, but Julie's eyes were vacant. "Where did you get the last name Doyle? What happened tonight?"

She shrugged off the blanket and set the mask down on the back end of the ambulance. "Are you going to call my mom? She went to the store. She said I could stay by myself. She's never let me do that before."

"I promise you," Jane said, desperation laced in her words. "I will call your mother. She will be here. But I need you to tell me where you got the last name Doyle. It is really important, Julie." Julie brought her hand up, which was clenched in a fist, and let her fingers uncurl. A crumpled piece of paper was revealed and Jane, looking to Julie for permission first, reached out and took it from the light skinned teen. Jane's long fingers smoothed it out until it was as readable as she could get it. She read it to herself first, and then handed the paper to Maura. "Where did you get this?" she demanded. Her kid gloves had regrettable vanished after reading the note. "Can you tell me what happened?" she asked a little softer.

"It came through my window." she sniffled. "I was working on my science project for school. I'm making a volcano, and-" A few firefighters began coming out of the building and making their way to the truck. Julie watched them until they reached their destination before continuing with her story. "I got up because I needed some more paint. My mom is an artist, so she keeps some in her closet. As I was standing up a rock broke through the window. That was tied to it." she nodded towards the note still clutched in Maura's hand. "It scared me and I screamed. I walked over and picked the rock up and took the note. That was when the other stuff came through the window."

"Other stuff?"

"The stuff that caught fire. The first one hit my volcano. It exploded and that's when I started running into my mom's room. The next one hit the other table and that's when the fire started getting really big. I was too afraid to leave my mom's room. It was _so _hot. That's when I read the note, when I was in there. I read it then. I didn't understand though. My name is Julie. You're Maura." she looked back up at Maura, her eyes anxious. "_You're _Maura. Not me. I'm Julie..."

"Julie, you've been a really big help, okay? Thank you." Jane patted her knee and stood, leaning in close enough to whisper in Maura's ear. "I need you to sit here with her and do not move. I see Frankie pulling up now. Do not leave this spot."

"You've inhaled smoke," said Maura. "You need some oxygen. At least get checked by a paramedic."

"I'm fine. Stay with her." Jane bent back down in front of Julie. "Hey Julie, I want you to remember my name, okay? Detective Jane Rizzoli. My brother is Officer Frankie Rizzoli and he just pulled up. I'm going to go get him and bring him over here, and he's going to get in touch with your mom. Dr. Isles here is going to sit with you for a few more minutes."

"Her last name isn't Doyle?"

"No." Jane said firmly. "No. It isn't." She took the crumpled paper from Maura and walked over to Frankie who, after clambering out of his car, couldn't take his eyes off the smokey apartment building and the two emergency vehicles out front. Before he could say anything, Jane held her hands up and stopped him from getting any closer to Maura. With her hand still clenching the note, Jane didn't want to have the conversation she needed to have with Frankie in ear shot of Julie and, naturally, Maura. Frankie tried stretching his neck to see Maura but Jane snapped her fingers in an attempt to gain his full attention. "Hey, hey."

"What the hell happened? Is Maura okay? Are you-"

"We're both fine." Jane spoke as soothingly as she could, trying to swallow the annoyance she was already feeling. "Look, Frankie. I need you to take Maura back to the department. Don't let her out of your sight until I get there. I need to talk with the chief before I go back but I don't want Maura hanging around. The kid over there, her name is Julie. Take her too. Call her mom, get her to the station to pick the girl up."

Frankie looked at his older sister seriously. "Jane, what's going on?" Jane glanced at Maura from the corner of her eye. She was talking with the girl, probably about something that Julie could barely understand, even less so when she had just gone through something as traumatic as a fire.

"There was another attempt on Maura's life." Jane said quietly. "Obviously, it wasn't successful."

"Clearly. Who's the kid?"

"Can we talk later?" she said impatiently, eyeing the fire chief as he made his way over to them. Frankie turned to look as well but stood his place, waiting for the burly older man to reach them. His mustache was thick and speckled with flecks of grey. He stood much taller than Frankie and just above Jane. He nodded at them both and spoke, his voice deep and gravely.

"Rizzoli," he nodded at Frankie. "Detective." he said to Jane. "Can we talk?"

"Frankie," Jane pleaded. "Take Maura to the station. Don't let her leave." He nodded at Jane and then gave the chief a curt nod before retreating back to Maura, gently touching her shoulder and waving for her and Julie to follow him to the car. Jane watched them leave before turning back to the chief and giving him a grim smile, which he returned. "What started the fire?"

"Looks like it was some kind of hand made bomb or fire cracker." he rubbed his mustache. "I don't think it would have made quite as big of a fire as it did had their not been flammables sitting in the living room where the girl was sitting. You take her statement?" Jane nodded. "I'll be needing that for my report, if you don't mind. Looked like there was plastic remnants from a nail polish remover bottle, which only added to the fire. A couple other things that I couldn't quite make out,"

"Julie said she was building a science project. A volcano or something?"

"That could add to it, maybe. I think it was mostly everything else that was sitting out. I'm guessing if she had nail polish remover sitting out, there was nail polish. It seemed as though there were three explosives. Fire spread pretty rapidly."

"How is the apartment looking?"

"Definitely some structural problems," he pulled out his notes. "We're going to close out the building for tonight and take a better look in the morning when it's light out. We'll let residents get in to get some belongings. Anyone without a place to stay can stay in our emergency room at the station, but we're only giving everyone a few minutes to get some things. You live here, right?"

"Yeah, I should go up. Got a dog and a tur-" she stopped to correct herself. "A tortoise."

"You got a tortoise, Rizzoli? Who the hell has a tortoise as a pet?"

"My friend," Jane muttered aggressively. "They're highly...intelligent. And they..." she struggled to remember Maura telling her about all the positive reasons to keep a tortoise as a pet. "-they really like strawberries, okay? He's cool."

The chief cocked an eyebrow and chuckled. "You got ten minutes, Rizzoli. I'm going to go talk to the other residents." He walked over to the crowd that had gathered from the apartments. Jane recognized a few of the people from times getting her mail or walking in the hallway, but they were almost all strangers. She gripped the note, still in her hand, harder and made her way up to her apartment, vowing to only take five of the ten minutes she offered.

* * *

><p>Jo Friday was doing laps around the bull pen by the time Jane, out of breath from carrying Maura's giant tortoise, came into the room. The pup hopped happily at Frost's feet and jumped towards Maura. The blonde smiled but didn't reciprocate the love, her eyes looking tired and her lips turned down in a frown. She gave Jo's ears a scratch and let her move on to the next person that might give the love she was seeking and Frankie, taking pity, picked her up and pat her head. Jane placed Bass down on the ground next to Maura's feet and grabbed the water bottle that was sitting on the desk, taking a long drink.<p>

"How the hell do you carry that thing into my apartment all the time, Maura?" she panted. Maura was sitting at Jane's desk with her legs crossed and her head held in her hands. Frankie, with Jo Friday in his arms, was leaning against Frost's desk and Frost sat behind him, his eyes closed until Jane had spoken, startling him out of his thoughts. "Where's the kid?"

"Her mom picked her up." explained Frankie. "She must'a got back to the apartments right after we left. They're going to stay at the fire station tonight and then go to her parent's house tomorrow after getting status from the department on damage. What'd the chief say?"

"Explosives." Jane said. "Three of them. They weren't built very well, from the sounds of it. The fire mostly came from the flammables in the room. Nail polish remover, stuff like that. Julie said that the rock with the note came through the window first and then not long after the first of the three explosives came through. That's probably the crash we heard, Maura. The window breaking. She took off running into her mom's room to hide. Poor kid is really shaken up," she propped herself up on the desk and sighed. "There are guys canvassing the neighborhood for witnesses right now. If anyone saw someone throwing things at the apartment, we'll get 'em, Maur." she rubbed Maura's shoulder reassuringly.

Frost slammed his fist against the desk, startling them all. "What the hell are we missing?" he growled, standing up and pacing the room. "We have no witnesses, no suspects other than a sixteen year old kid and his fifty six year old grandma – I mean, come on. We should have something more."

"Whoever this is, is not a professional. They've had two chances to kill Maura and they mis-shot the first time and picked the wrong apartment the second time. Maybe it is the kid. It seems so amateur to be making these mistakes." chimed Frankie.

Jane's head shot up. "Or maybe we're looking at this the wrong way. Maybe they're not trying to kill Maura at all."

"I think the facts prove otherwise, Jane." Maura said quietly. She stood up and took Jane's hand, unraveling them and grabbing the note. "And we have to look at this as evidence. Jane, maybe it is her... who else would know-"

"-no. Maura, no. I won't believe it until there is some other evidence."

"What's that?" Frost asked, reaching forward to take the note. "_To Maura Doyle_," he read. "_I should have done this when I had the chance all those years ago. _Maura Doyle? Why are they calling you by Paddy's last name?"

"I assume it is a way for them to identify me with my true paternity." replied Maura. "A justification for their actions, considering who my father is and what he has done. And that is why," she continued, turning to Jane. "-I think we should seriously consider looking into Hope. Jane, I promise you, this isn't some twisted thought process going through my brain. I remember what we discussed earlier, but you can't deny that this is throughly suspicious. If what my mother says is true and Paddy and Hope were very secretive when it came to her pregnancy, not many people knew that I existed. Perhaps what this note is referring to is an abortion that Hope considered seeking, but did not have the courage to do so. I don't know this woman, Jane. Maybe she is mentally disturbed. Perhaps this is her way of getting revenge on Paddy for impregnating her and for me ruining something in her life. Perhaps my birth deterred her plans for college, for a future – we don't know, Jane, and this isn't like you to ignore suspicions."

"I still think that we might be looking at this in the wrong light. They've had _two _chances to kill Maura. If they had thrown those explosives into my apartment, the whole place probably would have gone up in flames. My window is right into my kitchen and right next to that window is the liquor cabinet. That bullet could have killed her too. She was a prime target. But both times they missed or miscalculated. Maybe it was a rookie mistake or maybe they're just trying to get a point across, trying to show Paddy how close they can get to his daughter. Maybe they're trying to draw Paddy out."

"So your theory, which is pure conjecture, holds more standing then mine, which is entirely plausible seeing as we have literally zero information regarding the woman who gave birth to me? Jane, she slept with Patrick Doyle. There has to be some neurological issues buried deep down inside there!"

"I didn't say you didn't have a good theory, Maura! But for someone who doesn't like to guess, you're doing a lot of guessing!"

"No, I'm looking at the logical suspects in this situation."

"And I'm not?"

Frankie stepped between the two women. "Maybe we just need to take a night. Clear our heads, y'know?"

"We can't go back to the apartments." muttered Jane, tearing her eyes from Maura. She knew she was right. If this were another case, Jane would have already looked at Hope as a potential suspect. "If it's okay with you," she glanced over at Maura quickly, then turned back. "-we're just gonna stay here for the night and crash in the break room. It's safer for you here then any place else."

"That's fine." Maura replied quietly. "Frankie, would you mind taking Bass to your apartment? This is no environment for him."

"Yeah, take Jo too."

"You guys going to be alright here by yourselves?" asked Frost.

Jane pulled her keys from her pocket and tossed them to Frankie. "Yeah, yeah. There are guards downstairs. Hey, go down to my car and grab the bags that I packed for Maura and I."

"Why can't you do it?"

"I didn't say I couldn't do it. I told _you _to do it." she retorted with a jabbing finger. Frankie rolled his eyes and left, leaving Jane, Maura and Frost alone in the room with the animals. Frost began packing up his bag. Before he left he gave Jane a small tap on the shoulder and Maura a reassuring smile, telling them he'd see them in the morning. The two were left in silence, only the sound of Jo Friday's feet pattering against the floor. Eventually the dog calmed and climbed on top of Bass' shell, twirling for a few moments before curling his body up and sighing. Maura cracked a smile for the first time that evening.

"They have become good friends." she remarked.

"Yeah," Jane chortled. "Yeah they have."

* * *

><p>Jane chose the break room that she always did; there were several in the building but this was her golden room, the room she always ventured to when she was in desperate need of a less than comfortable bed to get a few minutes of sleep before throwing herself back into her work. In most of the other rooms you could hear the pipes in the building creak and there was almost always a draft coming in the windows. This room was smaller, with only four beds, and the window was so high from the floor that any draft wouldn't have bothered them at all. Jane dumped her bag at the foot of the bed and threw her body down, the mattress springs squeaky quietly. She could hear Maura set down her bag – gently, so unlike Jane had – and sit at the edge of her bed and sigh, eventually letting her entire body lay down. She chose the bed the furthest from Jane's.<p>

The light was still on but Jane could already feel herself falling asleep. Her arms were tired from having to carry Julie, even that tiny bit, and her head throbbed. She knew that Maura was right. Hope _was _a good suspect, but Jane hated the idea that yet another parent of Maura's could be so bad, so wrong – how could something so wonderful and kind and charitable come from two people so bad? There were many things Jane wanted for Maura, but more than anything Jane wanted her to be able to say she came from a kind mother, someone who strived for the best in society. Maura deserved that, thought Jane. And above all, she deserved to be wanted and loved.

"Jane?" Maura whispered.

"Yeah?"

"I'm scared."

Jane turned her head, even though she couldn't see Maura still, and spoke back. "Me too."

"You're scared?" Jane heard Maura's bed creak and knew that the woman had sat up. "You haven't been scared since Hoyt. Why are you scared?"

There was a long wait. "Because," Jane finally said, swallowing thickly. "-I don't ever want to lose you, Maura. Maybe it's selfish," she chuckled nervously.

"It's not." Maura replied quickly. "It's sweet."

"I'll do everything I can to protect you." she whispered, more to herself than to Maura.

"I know." Silence fell over them again. "Jane?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I come over there?"

"...yeah." Jane's voice cracked. "Yeah, yeah. Come here." she scooted over to the farthest side of her twin bed and pulled back the covers. Maura had already stood and turned off the lights before coming over to Jane's bed. There was a pause, and for a moment Jane wished the lights were still on, because she wanted to know where Maura was and what was taking her so long. Finally the bed dipped and Maura's body was next to hers, warmer than any blanket Jane could ever cover herself with. Their arms were pressed together with how small the bed was. "Comfortable?"

"I..." Maura trailed off. "Yes. Yes, I'm comfortable."

"Maura?"

"Yes?"

"Are you still scared?"

Jane could swear that she heard the smile lift on her friend's face. Maura turned to her. "Not as much as I was a few minutes ago," she whispered, resting her head on Jane's shoulder.

They drifted off to sleep.


	21. Road Trip

Jane shoved Maura in the direction of Korsak's desk and asked her to sit down. She didn't want Maura going down to the morgue that day – with the help of interns and those who worked as aids to Maura, Jane made sure that any business that needed taking care of down there was getting done, a way to soothe Maura's nerves at being away from her work for as long as she already had been. The doctor protested – and a lot, too – but eventually, with a resounding sigh, Maura plopped down into the chair and brought out a book she had been in her purse, irregularly looking up to try and listen to what Jane and Frost were talking about.

It was barely nine o'clock with Cavanaugh came into the office and asked to have a meeting between the two detectives. They left Maura behind, Cavanaugh casting her a nervous glance with a smile before closing his office door. The meeting lasted no more than ten or fifteen minutes and, for the first time in a long time, Jane didn't walk out of her boss's office with a sour look on her face. She looked completely normal, unperturbed and relatively calm. There was no throbbing vein in her neck and her hands weren't clenched together. Maura smiled.

"Everything okay?"

"He just wanted to know about the fire."

"Any word on the apartment?"

"Nope."

"Jane Rizzoli!"

The voice had always managed to send chills up Jane's spine, particularly when her name was said in such a demanding, confrontational way. Angela came storming into the department, one hand gripping a pair of brown paper bags and the other holding her car keys. Her eyes spun wildly until they locked on her daughter standing sheepishly by her desk, eyes diverted down to the case file that Frost had tossed there moments before. Maura, sitting at Korsak's desk, watched nervously as the robust Italian mother came storming towards them and tossed the bags down onto the desk and folded her arms against her waist, glaring up at Jane.

"What are you doin' here, Ma?"

"You almost get blown up, and I don't even get a phone call!" she wheeled and turned on her heels, this time staring straight at Maura. "Now I don't blame _you, _Maura. But someone could have called. You're the responsible one."

"Hey!" squeaked Jane. "Why-"

Angela turned back towards her daughter and cut Jane off. "You sleep here instead of at Frankie's, huh? What would be so bad about comin' and stayin' with us, huh? Huh?"

"Ma, it was just easier-"

"-all of you always gettin' blown up and in trouble and hurt-"

"-no one was hurt-"

"-now you're homeless-"

"-I'm not _homeless-" _

"-poor Maura is being stalked-"

"-Ma-"

"-and why can't you find the guy tryin' to hurt her, Janie?"

"_I'm trying." _

"Well you should try harder!"

"You're right." Jane deadpanned. "I should try harder, but it's a little difficult when my _mother _comes to my work and distracts me!"

Angela's face fell and her voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm just tryin' to make sure you're okay."

"I know, and I love you." said Jane sweetly. "Now leave."

"I brought you lunch." Angela huffed, nodding towards the brown bags.

Maura chimed in behind Jane, flashing Angela one of her award winning smiles. "That was very kind, Angela. Thank you."

"At least one of you is polite." grumbled the disgruntled older Rizzoli woman.

"You know, Ma, no matter how discretely you indirectly mumble insults about me, I can still hear you."

"That's the point."

Jane groaned and rolled her eyes, taking a seat at her desk and shooting Maura an annoyed look. Angela leaned down and gave Jane a quick kiss to the head, flashed Maura a tiny wave and exited the bullpen just before Frost burst into his girlish giggles. Jane hissed at him to shut up and turned around in her seat, slipping one hand down to turn the computer on and pulling a water bottle from her bag. Frost came up behind her and perched himself on the edge of her desk.

"So what are we doing today?"

"Hell if I know."

"Look, Jane." Frost dropped his voice. "Maybe Maura has a point. Maybe we should start looking into Hope more. You've been avoiding it-"

Jane interrupted. "I know Maura is right."

"Then what are you waiting for? It's not like we have any other leads on this case. She could hold the key to something that we need."

"She isn't in our jurisdiction. I can't just hop on a plane, knock on her front door and introduce myself."

There was a short pause and the two detectives stared at each other. Frost smirked. "Why not?"

"Why not? Because that's insane. Cavanaugh would never allow it."

"You're just questioning her, Jane. He wants this case closed as much as you do. What's the harm in going down there and chatting? I can keep things going around here. Korsak is getting out of the hospital today anyway. Thought I'd go over and bring him some lunch or something. Things are dead here besides this case and until we get some more news from the fire department-"

"Okay, yeah. Okay." Jane looked over Frost's shoulder at Maura. "Should I bring her? I mean, I don't want to meet her mom before she does, but if Hope is behind the attacks..."

"Take her. I'd rather fight a battle with a murderer than the fury of Maura Isles when she's felt betrayed or hurt."

Jane chuckled. "Good idea. Hey, Maura. Let's go."

"Where are we going?" asked Maura as she slid a bookmark into her book.

"A little trip." replied Jane briskly as she grabbed her bag.

* * *

><p>The flight was short but the drive was long.<p>

"Why are you letting me come?" asked Maura after they had been driving for an hour. The car ride had been fairly silent up until then, with only the radio as their comfort. Jane had stopped and got them drinks and snacks at an old gas station – Maura shriveled her nose when they walked in, the air thick with cigar smoke and the smell of gasoline – and after that it had just been them and the road, each nervous about what would meet them once they got to Hope. "Wouldn't it be...unethical?"

"I'm not meeting your biological mother before you do." she muttered. "Besides, we'll know if she's our perp if she tries killing you when we walk in the door."

Maura laughed. "That might be a clue, yes."

"Are you nervous?"

"My sympathetic nervous system is reacting. I'm perspiring and..." Maura released a long breath. "Sorry. I mean, this is it. This isn't how I ever wanted to meet her, but...Jane, what will Paddy say when he finds out we've gone to her? He told us not to, he said-"

"-he needs to play by our rules sometimes. He doesn't always know what's best."

"He knows something we don't."

"Are you saying you don't want to meet Hope?"

"No!" exclaimed Maura. "But perhaps we shouldn't announce who I am until after we talk with her. We should come up with a rouse."

"A rouse?"

"Yes."

"Well Maura," Jane chuckled. "I was going to tuck you into a basinet with a blanket and a letter explaining that you're her daughter. You've ruined my plan."

"I think you're being sarcastic."

"...obviously."

"I just think it would be a bad idea to immediately tell her that I'm her long lost daughter that she abandoned with her sister."

"It's going to be fine. We're going to walk up to the door. I"ll flash my badge and explain that I'm detective of the Boston Police Department and that I have a few questions. She doesn't need to know who you are unless there is a reason for it. It will be fine."

* * *

><p>The only word Jane could find to describe the neighborhood as they drove through was 'cute'. Although none of the houses were exactly the same, they were similar in style and structure. Most were modified to include a painted garage door here and there, a flower garden either in front of the house or small flower beds resting on the sills of windows. All were paneled and the roofs were hitched. Only one of the houses was a one story, and it sat on the very corner and had the biggest yard. Jane slowed when they turned onto the right street and squinted her eyes to find the right address. She could hear Maura's labored breath beside her. The car squeaked when she braked and finally the car was parked. The pair sat in the car, looking up at the house.<p>

Like all the others, Hope's home was a two story paneled abode. The paneling was a light blue compared to its neighbor's cool beige. Four concrete steps led up to a long porch that stretched across the entire front of the house. On one end was a bench swing with cushiony floral padding and a similar wooden table sat next to it, an old pen without a cap beneath the seat of the bench. The porch was encased by a wooden fence painted white to match the windows and the smaller spoked fence that wrapped around a flower bed in front of the house. Marigolds, lilacs and daisies mixed together with colorful weeds and tall bushes. The driveway was long and led up to an attached garage decorated with faded bumper stickers and a rusted knob. The front window was open, letting a breeze into the main room of the house. With the cars windows rolled down, Jane could hear a television playing.

"You okay?" Jane asked, her words feeling heavier than usual. Maura gave a curt nod and opened her car door, stepping out into the fresh air and walking up to the sidewalk to wait for Jane. Together they walked up and Jane rapped on the door three times. She could feel Maura next to her – she was barely shaking, but Jane could hear her labored breathing and she knew that if she looked over she would be able to see the brewing panic attack nestling itself closer and closer to the surface. Jane waited with her hand on her gun, staring straight forward, ready for the door to swing open.

When it did, Jane was sure her heart stopped (though she knew that if she ever told Maura that, she would get a long, scientific explanation on how that was improbable).

The woman who answered the door wore light, pastel pink scrubs. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun but it was unmistakably the same honey blonde as Maura's. Eyes a murky green-blue mix stared back at the two. She wasn't very tall, but her legs were long and thin. Jane knew she was older but she looked good for her age – her face was thin and relatively unwrinkled, skin a natural tan and blemish free. She wore light a light rosy blush on her cheeks and glossy lip balm, but for the most part her face was clear and natural. Hope was beautiful and Maura looked just like her.

Hope stared directly at Maura, hardly even paying attention to Jane. Her lips formed a small 'o'.

"Hope Burke?" There was no question that the woman standing at the door was Maura Isle's mother. "My name is Jane Rizzoli and I'm a detective for the Boston Police Department in Massachusetts. I had a few questions, may my partner and I come in?"

For the first time Hope looked over to her but it didn't last long. She looked back to Maura, who for the first time Jane looked at too. "Maura?" Hope said, her voice just above a whisper. A single tear slipped down her cheek. "What are you doing here? How did you..." Maura tensed up next to Jane. "No, please. Please, you have to go. You cannot be here." Jane stared wildly at the agitated woman. "You cannot be here. How did you find me? Did Constance – it doesn't matter. Go, Maura. Do not come back here again." Hope went to close the door but Jane stuck a foot in just in time.

"I think you need to answer a few questions for us." she replied hotly. Hope looked panicked as her eyes looked up and down the street. "May we come in?"

"_No._"

"Hope," Maura muttered weakly.

"I gave you up to give you a better life. You're ruining it. Both of you. I don't know how you found me. I don't know why you found me. You need to go. You need to-"

"-I already know I'm Patrick Doyle's daughter!" Maura shouted, exasperated. Hope flinched at the sound of Patrick's name. "I know who I am. I just want answers. I need to know-"

"You don't need to know anything." she snapped. "Knowing will get you killed."

"Not knowing is getting her killed." Jane retorted angrily. Hope turned to Jane and frowned. "We need to know what you know, and we need to know now."

"I'm sorry." Hope whispered, her eyes fluttering. "I gave you up to keep you safe, Maura. You can't be here. I can't..." she stepped further inside her house. "I have my own children to take care of and think of now. I did my job in protecting you. I have to protect them now, too. Please go."

"Jane let's go." Maura's voice sounded different. It wasn't the light, airy voice that Jane was so used to. It was dark. It was broken. Her eyes were dry but Jane knew that the moment they were away from Hope, away from this place, the dam would break. The blonde looped her arm through Jane's and tugged her back down the sidewalk. Jane wasn't prepared to leave or give up but she wasn't prepared to put Maura through anymore pain than she was already going through. They were half way down the walk when Hope called them back. It was what Jane had been waiting for. The bittersweet goodbye, the declaration of love, the please forgive me – all the things Jane saw on television. She waited with abated breath, waiting as Hope stood there staring at her forgotten daughter, waiting for just even a single utterance of sorrow for how she treated Maura, but the longer they stood there the closer Jane came to the realization that she wouldn't be hearing what she knew Maura desperately needed to hear. Hope stepped further out onto the porch and stared at Maura closely before finally, finally after what seemed like an eternity, spoke:

"Don't come back."

* * *

><p><strong>THIS WAS SO HARD TO WRITE. Jane, Maura and I weren't getting along. I have also had exams. But here you go, new chapter. Last night I published a one-shot of Jane and Maura being sorted at Hogwarts. I don't know what came over me. It's the most ridiculous thing. Go take a look if you want. <strong>

**Review and tell me what you think of this chapter? :)**


	22. We Meet Again

"_Do me a favor," mumbled Maura as they settled back into the car. _

"_Yeah?" _

"_Can we not tell the others about what Hope said to me? I understand that you have to report back with some of what Hope said, but-" _

"_Don't worry." Jane assured her, reaching over and gripping Maura's hand. "Are you-" _

_Maura didn't let her finish."Yes." she insisted._

"_Maur-" _

"_Really. I'm fine. I don't know what I expected. She gave me up. I understood that a long time ago." _

"_I think-" _

"_May we go now?" _

_Jane didn't push any further. She put her key into the ignition and started the car, giving one last look to the cute little house that didn't seem so cute anymore._

* * *

><p>Jane drove through the night to get back to Boston. Neither of them wanted to spend the night in a hotel and wait for the next plane out. Maura would probably deny it if Jane ever brought it up, but the detective could see the urgency behind her friend's eyes – that desperate need to get away as quickly as possible. She hadn't cried, which for Maura was unusual in itself, and for the most part she remained silent the entire ride home, which was another surprise. They walked back into the BPD the next morning with hardly any answers to give all those waiting for them. Frost smiled at them when they walked in.<p>

"Hey, how'd it go? Maura, did you-"

Jane gave him a subtle shake of her head. He quieted. "She gave us nothing." she wiped her eyes tiredly and leaned up against her desk.

"Why do you look so tired? Couldn't sleep on the plane?"

"Drove."

"_Drove?_"

"Didn't want to camp out in a hotel for the night," she shrugged.

"Jane, I am going to go lay down. I seem to have developed a tension headache and I think sleep would help."

"Oh." Jane frowned. "Yeah, hey, I'll come with you real quick-"

Maura held up a hand. "No need."

"I have some aspirin."

"No thank you." she replied, backing out of the doorway. "I prefer to avoid using medication if I can, particularly aspirin. Though it is true that all medications have positive and negative affects on our bodies, there is something about aspirin that I just can't like."

"Right..." drawled Jane.

"I'll see you later." Maura said faintly, taking her leave to the break room for a nap.

"Yeah, bye." Jane frowned as she watched her walk away and then finally turned back to Frost. "That seem strange to you?"

"A little."

"As long as there isn't any booze in there..." Jane grumbled. "Have you heard from the fire chief yet? I thought I would have gotten a call by now but my phone has been pretty dead the past few days."

"Yeah he stopped by last night." Frost stretched his arms above his head and yawned. "-said the damage was pretty minor. Some structural stuff, you know. Insurance company is fixing it up. He doesn't want residents moving back in until it's done, though. He said they can continue to go in and retrieve any items they may need but they have to be accompanied."

"Heard anything about the kid and her mom?"

"Mom left you a message," he nodded towards her answering machine on the desk. "I briefed the Chief on what's been going on with Maura's case. He said the device that our guy used to set the fire was really simple. Seems like the fire was really caused by whatever the bomb hit. He said it was a compound of a bunch of old firecrackers and some gun powder. Nothing special, real beginner. There were three of them. I got some photos." Frost shuffled through some photos and tossed them to Jane. She flipped through one after the other but nothing stuck out. She set them back down on the desk. "He said that without a witness, it's going to be hard to find whoever set the fire. I went down to the street where the bomb had to be thrown and got security tapes from all the shop owners that I could, but..."

"But what?"

"Two of 'em had their cameras down that night and the others were pretty grainy. It was too dark and the cameras were too far away to really tell anything."

"Do we have a shadow? Anything?"

Frost waved her over to his desk and pulled up one of the videos, pointing to a blob on the screen. "It's the best we got." he said sadly. "Too dark, too bad of quality."

Jane squinted. "Think that could be our kid suspect? He looks a little tall, but-"

"We're not going to get anything from this video. I mean, maybe that's him, but even if it is, we don't have a face or anything to definitively say that's him. Look here," He slowed the video and pointed once more. "There, right there – that's when he throws the first one. He doesn't throw it with just his arm, though. It would be impossible to break the window. I don't care how good his pitching arm is. He's too far away."

"Well he threw a rock first. Pause it here," she squinted again. "It looks like a pole."

"Yeah..." hummed Frost. "Yeah, or like, a hockey stick."

"He must of used whatever that is to throw it faster and harder."

"Does Seamus play hockey?"

"I don't know, Frost. I was so busy asking him about high school gossip that I completely forgot to ask him about athletics. How stupid of me."

"Sassy."

"Annoyed." she said pointedly. "Besides, I don't think it's a hockey stick. I don't think it's curved at the end. It's not long enough, either."

"Think it's homemade?"

"Maybe. It might be enough to get a search warrant for Seamus' place. Call a judge, I'll be back in an hour."

"Where are you going?"

"Apartment. I'm going to grab a few more things of mine and Maura's. Could you, you know, watch her? Make sure she's okay and stuff while I'm gone?"

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah." Jane sent him a fake smile. "Of course." On her way out, Jane stopped by the break room. Maura was asleep on one of the man beds, her hands delicately placed beneath her sleeping head. She hadn't bothered to pull the covers down. Jane ripped a blanket off from one of the other beds and placed it over her. Still asleep, Maura nestled into the warmth of the blanket and mumbled incoherently. Jane watched her for a moment or two, entranced by how captivated she was by Maura even as the woman slept. She brushed some hair from Maura's eyes and bent down, feeling braver than she had been in a very long time, and left a soft kiss on her temple.

"_Jane._" Jane's eyes snapped open at the sound of her name coming from the sleeping woman's lips. She stepped back a bit but Maura's hand gripped her wrist. Her eyes were still quiet and her breathing still slow and sleep riddled. She was doing nothing more than sleep talking. "Why doesn't..."

Jane swallowed hard. "Why doesn't what, Maura?" She felt like she was intruding. Maura had no idea what she was saying.

There was a long silence. "Hope." Another pause. "Hope... hates... me..."

"Oh, sweetie." Jane murmured as her own heart broke. She sat down on the edge of the bed and waited, hoping that Maura would say something again and at the same time hoping she would remain silent. She gave it five or six minutes before finally standing up, carefully sliding her wrist out of Maura's grip. She looked once more down at her face and noticed, for the first time, a watery tear on her cheek. Jane bent down again and kissed it away. "I'm going to figure it out, Maura." she whispered. "I'm going to figure everything out. Paddy, Hope, Constance. Me and you. I'll figure it out."

Maura rolled over and buried herself further in the blanket.

* * *

><p>Jane walked back into her apartment and frowned. It looked just as she had left it with the only difference being that it smelled faintly of smoke and burnt rubber. She had slid past the firemen who were checking people in by way of the back door that Jane knew how to wiggle open. She waited for the hallway to be clear to slip into her apartment. Being along was all she wanted and she wasn't interested in small talk with the firemen or the Chief. She pulled a few clothes from the bedroom and tossed them out in a heap in the living room. She went from room to room and gathered supplies, finally taking a moments rest to visit the fridge. Cringing at the smell, she slammed the door back shut and grimaced. They had shut the power off and everything was spoiled. Walking to the sink, she twisted the knob. The water was off too.<p>

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Jane jumped and spun around to the sound of the gruff voice behind her. Paddy Doyle was standing in her doorway. His limp was hardly better but his complexion looked rosier than before and not as ghostly white. It was the first time that Jane could remember where she didn't reach immediately for her gun and for a split second she couldn't figure out why. Doyle looked angry, angrier than she had ever seen him, and Jane was perfectly calm.

"Excuse me?"

Paddy's fist slammed into the wall. "You went to see Hope, god dammit!" he let his body fall against the wall and he took in long, slow breaths. Jane fixated her gaze on the troubled man.

"I have an investigation to conduct. I'm sorry if that doesn't always go with what you-"

He pushed himself back from the wall and, through clenched teeth, hissed in Jane's face: "She's _missing._"

The color drained from her face. "What?"

"I got a call." Though his eyes were still wild, his voice grew calmer, almost weaker, softer still. He was not the Patrick Doyle that Jane had come to know. He looked like a broken man. "-said they had Hope, said that they were finally going to do what they had wanted to do for all these years." He brought one large hand to his forehead and wiped his brow. "-wanted Maura, too. Wants Maura. You gotta keep her safe, Jane. Where is she? Where's my kid?"

"She's safe. Doyle, you need to start being straight with me. I need answers. Now."

"No, there's no time, we gotta-"

"Hey!" shouted Jane. She grabbed the collar of Paddy's leather coat and pulled him forward as best she could. "You want to save Hope and Maura? Then give me some goddamn answers, Doyle, or they're going to die. You don't want to trust the police, fine, but you sure as hell better start trusting in me." She pushed him back by the collar of his jacket and he stumbled a bit, catching himself on the corner of an end table. He looked up to her, still breathing heavy from whatever battle was waging inside his head, and nodded to the couch. "Okay," he panted. "Sit down."

* * *

><p><strong>Review? :) The next chapter you will be getting a bucket load of information. Any speculations? I also published a new one-shot yesterday titled "Cry". Check it out if you want!<strong>

**OH and for whoever asked, Rizzles comes back June 5th  
><strong>


	23. Histoire

**This is a very long chapter. I have had this chapter in the works since chapter seven or eight of this story. Most of this was already written. This is a huge chapter and important to the central theme. Not everything is revealed in this chapter, though, so don't get too excited :) **

* * *

><p>"I, uh..." he ran a hand over his mouth and sighed. "It would probably be easier asking you what you already know."<p>

Jane scoffed. "I don't know anything. That's why we're here."

"Oh please, detective. You're telling me nothing has come up in your weeks worth of investigation? You brought up Frank Lynch. Why?"

"This wasn't a trade of information, Paddy. I said you tell me everything you know, not the other way around."

"What you know is pertinent to what I know!" he spat.

She stared him down for a few moments before letting out a resounding sigh, sitting down in the arm chair next to the couch and resting her elbows on her knees, leaning forward and looking up at Paddy with a softer expression than she left him with. "Frank Lynch is the father of Seamus Conner. Seamus' prints were found on the bullet casings left behind when Maura was shot at. He lives with his grandmother."

"Nessa," Paddy gave a hauntingly cold chuckle.

"Yeah." replied Jane uneasily. "Kid has a solid alibi but it doesn't explain the prints on the casings."

"There is no such thing as an alibi in that family. How old is the boy?"

"Sixteen."

"Young, but not too young. Frankie-boy pro'lly raised him right."

The hair on the back of Jane's neck rose when he said the name Frankie, but she swallowed her irritation and replied: "Frank Lynch didn't raise him. Nessa has him his whole life. I looked into it. There wasn't much there. Frank and the kid's mom relinquished custody to Nessa and Frank skipped town. I traced the mom back. Dead. Overdose in 2000. I couldn't look into much more than that. A lot of files were missing."

"Back when the mobs crimes were in its peak, we had folks on the inside doing a lot of file stripping. Evidence lockers weren't locked for us. File rooms were a free for all."

"That's great to know."

"Don't worry, detective. As far as I know, you have no dirty cops in your department, but never be so naïve to think that everyone on your side of the line is good."

"Never be so naïve to think that a cop is naïve to the good and bad in a single human being."

"Touché." Their eyes met briefly. "And that's all you know of the boy?"

"All I got. Your turn."

"My father was a good man." he began. "Misguided, but great. Everything he did was for my mother and I. We lived a comfortable life. I never necessarily wanted the deceit or the crime or all the trouble but I grew up with the understanding that what we do is for family and nothing more. I knew that one day I would be calling the shots. I was never ready for it and I wasn't ready for it when it happened. Nothing happens the way it's supposed to, Detective. Nothing." His frown turned to a smile and his eyes became lighter. "I met Hope in a little pub, right off the road there in town. She was so beautiful. Maura looks just like her," his smile grew wider. "She had this laugh – it was so contagious, do you know what I mean, detective? Just like Maura's." Jane remained quiet. _Yes, _she thought. _I know. _ "Big, curious eyes. Soft hair. I think I fell in love with her right then and there. She had taken off from home for the weekend, she said. Her parents fought a lot. Ended up we lived right down the road from each other. Didn't take long before we were spending every weekend together."

"Memory lane, got it. I'm not seeing how this is necessary."

"If you want to understand, the whole story is necessary."

"Fine." Jane said impatiently, tapping her foot.

Patrick cleared his throat and began again. "You don't fall in love in my family. In some ways, marriage is a..." he moved his hands around, digging for the right word in his head. "-right of passage? You don't get a choice. Maybe a little one, if you find the right kind of person. But marriage, dating – it all had to do with my father. There were too many risks, too many secrets. We married inside the circle and only inside the circle."

Jane cringed. "Like, incest?"

"Not that I know of. Then again, my uncle and aunt looked awfully similar."

"That's disgusting."

"I was joking."

"You need to work on your sarcastic voice."

"_Anyway,_" he pressed on. "I knew I couldn't bring Hope around. I was careful. We saw each other mostly at night. She didn't question a whole lot. Sometimes I saw it in her eyes, though. She knew I was holding back, she knew I had secrets. Maybe that was why I loved her so much. Hope never forced anything. It was like, with her, I was waging a war against my father in a way I hadn't. It was my teenage rebellion of my twenties."

"And then she got pregnant."

"Yes. And then Hope got pregnant." he sighed, then turned into a small laugh. "I never imagined hearing I was going to be a father the way I did. Turns out, my father had me tracked. Saw a difference in me, he later said. Knew something was up. Wanted to make sure that I was, ah, _still on the right side. _Found out about Hope."

"_Yer screwin' this?" the older Doyle shouted, his calloused hand still squeezing Hope's arm. She squirmed, trying to get away from him. He pushed her roughly and she lost balance, falling back onto the floor with a thud. Patrick leapt forward to go to her but his father grasped him by the shoulder and pushed him back. "Ye really think, Paddy, tha' this wouldn't get to me?" His Irish accent, faded by the years spent in Boston, ripped through Hope's body. "Ye really think I didn't have ye watched?" _

"_This is none of your business." Patrick shouted gruffly, again making his way towards Hope. "She has nothing to do with you, with the business." _

_Adam Doyle eyed his son carefully. "Doesn't 'av to de wi' de business?" he chuckled. "Everythin' is business, boy. Everythin'. We can't 'av this-" _

"_Maybe I don't want to be in the business, then." Patrick said calmly, his eyes glazed over. "Maybe I choose her." _

"_Ye don't git a choice," he growled. _

"_Maybe I want one." _

"_Ye listen hur," his hands were clenched in fists. "Yer lil' whore will be gone by the mornin'. I'll forget I ever saw her. But I see her again," he brought up a fat, wagging finger in front of his sons face. "Wit ye, without ye. She's dead. Lord knows what yeh've told'er." His eyes turned to Hope on the ground. "She's not one'a us, Paddy. Git tha' through yer head." _

_The older man turned on his heel, without even a second glance at Hope, and walked right out of the house._

"_Patrick," squeaked Hope from the floor. He looked down, guilt and remorse washing over him. Kneeling beside her, she rose and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close. "Patrick," she whispered again. "Patrick I'm pregnant." _

"I promised her the world," his smile had faded by now. "I promised to leave behind my family. We went weeks without talking. I needed time to think, to come up with a plan. My father was murdered just three weeks later. I knew that the next time I talked to Hope I was going to have to break every single promise I ever made to her. With my father dead, everyone was counting on me. I was scared. I was young. I had a house full of people talking about how great my dad was and how great I would be. The Lynch family was my family too. My father ran everything with Redman. He assured me that I would be a good leader. A strong leader."

Jane broke into his story. "Redman Lynch killed your father and you killed Redman Lynch."

"Redman Lynch killed my father. I did not kill Redman Lynch."

"But-"

"-that same night that my house was full of people, Hope came to visit. She saw the cars. Her curiosity got the best of her. She went to the back of the house to the kitchen door where she usually came in. She overheard Redman confessing to his son that he killed my father. She was scared and she tried running but Redman heard the bushes move from outside. He caught her and brought her inside. I'll never forget the look on her face. There was this fear etched into every line of her face but at the same time, an unbelievable amount of courage. Redman wanted to kill her. I stopped him." He paused. It was the most emotional Jane had ever seen Paddy and the most emotional she had ever thought she would see Paddy.

"_What's going on?" Paddy shouted. "Hope-"_

"_You know her?" Redman shouted. "Paddy, you know her?" _

_He stood still in the middle of the room, as if trying to think of the best answer. "I know her," he finally said. Redman seized Hope by the locks of her hair and tugged back so hard her neck cracked. She stared straight at the ceiling, her eyes wide in shock, pain, and worry. Patrick stepped forward and grabbed Redman on the arm, his nails digging into the dry flesh and ripping Hope away from him. Seething, the older man lunged forward and took her back. "Don't touch her." warned Paddy. "Let her go, now. She is a friend." _

"_A friend, eh? A friend? You the little tramp that Doyle's daddy told us he was screwin'?" He licked his lips and let his eyes wander. "Tell us, she any good?" he bellowed out a hearty laugh towards Patrick who, enraged, bit his cheek and glowered at his old friend. "You know what happens to pussy cats that get a little too curious?" he whispered into her ear. Hope shuddered. "No? You don't?" his hand reached into his back pocket and he pulled from it a gun. "Let me show you." _

_Seeing the gun was all it took for Paddy to leap forward and tackle the man holding his lover. Hope scrambled from the fight until she felt her back press up against the hard wood of the cabinet. The gun was kicked from Redman's hand and skidded to a halt next to Hope's side. The remaining men in the room were far too concentrated on the fight between two leaders to pay any attention to Hope. She looped on finger around the trigger and tucked the gun into the cabinet behind her. The two men were pulled apart by bystanders. Redman spit blood from his mouth and Patrick did the same. _

"_Patrick." Hope stood from where she was sitting. All attention was pulled to her. "He killed your father." _

_Redman looked wildly between Hope and Patrick. Others in the room sucked in breaths; their eyes widened and they turned to look at the oldest man, the man who co-led them and helped give them the lives that they led now. A chuckle rose from his throat and turned into a wild laugh. He looked at Patrick, who had turned to stare at him, incredulously and slapped the man on his shoulder. "Ye see here," he pointed at Hope. "This is why we don't bring the trash in from outside. Who're you gonna believe, Paddy? The man who helped raise ye or a woman ye took to the sack once or twice?" _

_A young man emerged from the crowd. His hair was tousled and a murky red; he wore an unreadable expression and his eyes were a light sky blue. He looked to be about the same age as Paddy but he stood taller. His shoulders were broader but, in comparison, the two were no match. Paddy was visibly much stronger than the other boy. He looked to Redman and then to Patrick and, in a surprisingly deep voice, spoke directly to Paddy. "You can't possibly believe that my father had anything to do with your father's death. We're brothers, Paddy. You and me. We grew up together. You can't think-" _

_Patrick held up his hands. "Hope," he turned to her, his eyes soft and unnerved. "Tell me what you heard." _

_She gave a quick glance to the men standing beside him but after paid them no attention. She spoke only to Patrick. "This man," she pointed at Redman. "-was talking to a few others. He said that after today he would be running things. He said that now that your father is gone, he could finally do what he wanted and not have to worry about anyone else. The other man asked him how he did it. He said he shot him three times in the end and dumped him in the ravine up-state. He told him there was a job up there for them to do." Hope swallowed and waited for Patrick to say something. He turned slowly and looked up at Redman. _

"_How would she know where my father's body was found?" he asked slowly. "Hope?" Paddy called out her name but didn't turn to look at her. "Did he say anything else?" _

"_He said..." her eyes now trailed to the others in the room. Their expressions were a mixture of disbelief, pure, unadulterated hate and shock. "-he said that when he got the chance, when it was right, he was going to kill you too." _

_Redman's eyes flashed to Paddy's. "Ye believe 'er?" _

"_I will always believe in Hope." _

_It happened in seconds. Redman took one look at his son and backtracked from the back door, out into the dark night and away from the house. Patrick watched him go. If Hope hadn't been standing there in the kitchen next to him, perhaps he would have gone after him. Instead he looked back at her and smiled sadly, a pained expression on his face. His family was exposed for her to indulge herself in and he felt raw. She took a few steps forward and soon fell into his arms. "I'm sorry," he muttered into her hair. She squeezed him tighter and laughed. _

"_You're apologizing to me? Your father is dead. I'm so sorry." _

_Someone cleared their throat behind them. The red haired man stepped between them. "Patrick." he said quietly._

"_Cormac." _

"_My father-" _

"_You're my brother. He is not my father and a man who would turn his back on his family for money and for power is no father to you." _

_Cormac bowed his head sadly but recovered himself. He turned to Hope. "And you are?" he muttered coldly. _

"_Hope." _

"_Hope." he repeated. _

"_Everyone," Patrick addressed those gathered in the kitchen. "We have said goodbye to my father in a way I never imagined. We have been betrayed by someone we loved. Now is not the time to divide ourselves. Our," he crinkled his nose. "-our family business, our legacy. It's preserved only for as long as we preserve it. My father planned on putting me in charge one day and I fear that it has been too soon. Regardless," he took a deep, even breath. "-I am prepared to continue to lead us into the prosperity that my father and, regrettably, Redman led us into originally. We are a family." His face hardened and he turned to Cormac. "For those of you who have no interest in staying a part of this family, if your hearts belong elsewhere, with other people... leave. Now." _

"_I'm not my father." Cormac spat. "I have just as much stake in this family as you do. We were both raised to know what we were meant to do. Just because he made a mistake-" _

"_-a mistake? Is that what you call it, Cormac? A mistake?" Paddy's face grew red. "His finger accidentally slipped and hit the trigger one, two, three times?" he bellowed. "My father is dead and your father is a _coward, _running out of here like his ass was on fire. Running out of here like a child, too afraid to man up to his crime!_"

"_Death is a part of the game, Patrick. You've always known that. Unless you don't want to play anymore? Found yourself something better?" he nodded at Hope. "You stand here and talk of family and loyalty and here you are with this girl. In one night she has managed to tear us apart!" _

"_Don't you dare blame her." _

"_I'll do what I very damn well please." _

"_My father did not deserve to die."_

"_Does anyone?" _

"_Your father does and I promise you, Cormac. I will find him." His voice dipped and turned into a low growl. "I will find him and if I have to I will gut him like a fish." Cormac's eyes flashed. "Death is part of the game, Cormac. Isn't that what you said? Unless you don't want to play anymore? Don't like how the tables have turned?" _

_Hope placed her hand on Patrick's shoulder. "Patrick," she murmured. _

"_Hope, get out of here." _

"_What?" aghast, she took a step back. _

"_I'll come talk with you later." _

"_Patrick, I'm not leav-" _

_Whipping around to face her, Patrick grabbed Hope's forearm and squeezed. "Leave." he insisted. _

"Shortly after that, Cormac ran off. The Lynch name was mud. Couldn't get a job, criminal or not. I made sure of that. Nobody heard from Redman again and I let it get around that I'd taken care of him. Cormac promised me that he would get me back for his father's apparent death. He, Nessa and Frank took off for the other side of the country. I never heard from him again."

"But you didn't kill Redman"

"I told you, detective. I wasn't ready for the work that came with the job."

"What does that mean?"

"It means," he narrowed his eyes at her. "-that when I found Redman – yes, detective. I found him. - I brought the ice pick to his heart and I stopped. I was twenty-one years old, Jane. I had a baby on the way and a beautiful girl that I couldn't keep my mind off and there I was, standing on the side of a deserted, unlit road on the middle of a cold night with an ice pick to the heart of a man whose own heart was hardened by his actions. I didn't want to become him." Patrick's eyes fell to the floor. "The worst part of life is when you realize the person you don't want to become is the person you have to be. I knew Cormac was out there. I knew he knew who Hope was and the man beneath me, the man who begged for his life – he knew Hope. I knew my father had told him everything. I knew that, in order to protect Hope, I would have to do the one thing that I dreaded most."

"So you did kill him?" asked Jane, exasperated.

"I stabbed him. I closed my eyes and I stabbed him three times in the chest and then I left him there. I thought he would bleed out."

"And he didn't?"

Patrick shook his head slowly and let his head fall into his hands. "Redman Lynch is alive. Shortly after Maura was shot at, I thought it was best to look into Cormac. Cormac died in 1957 of alcohol posioning. Apparently he became a mean drunk, no surprise there. But his son, little Frank. He put down a few thousand dollars for a condo. His co-signer was Redman Lynch."

"Redman would have to be, what, late seventies now?"

"80."

"And he's alive and well?"

"Apparently."

"And Frank found him."

"Or Redman found Frank, yes." Patrick stood and began pacing the room. "I had met Hope later that week and I told her that we couldn't stay together, that it was too dangerous. I don't know why and I don't know how but she wasn't mad. She said she had a sister she could turn to. She and Constance hadn't spoken for years but Hope didn't want Maura to be raised by a stranger. I thought it would be better if she were to be adopted out through the system, get her lost among other children, have any ties to me or Hope lost forever but Hope was adamant. It was later that Hope was kicked out by her parents and we were forced to go to Constance early."

"You left Maura with Constance, I know."

"No." Patrick paused his pacing and shook his head. "Hope was only two months pregnant when we went to Constance. Constance took Hope in. Hope told her she was pregnant. I visited when I could. It was during this time that I was looking for Redman. Cormac took off around Hope's seventh month of pregnancy. For all anyone knew, Hope and I had broken up and was out of my life. I only went to Constance's at night."

"Did Constance know who you were?"

"I don't think so. Not initially."

"Please. I've met Constance Isles. I can't imagine her being too thrilled with you as her niece or nephew's father."

"If Constance asked questions I wasn't there to hear them." he said stiffly. "I don't know what happened in that house while I wasn't there. I came once a week, maybe once every two weeks if things picked up. I'm not proud of the fact that I wasn't there as much as I should have been for Hope during her pregnancy. I owe Constance more than I could ever repay her. That's why I went to the hospital that night. She did the things that I couldn't. She took care of Hope. She raised Maura. You may not have a whole lot of respect for Constance, detective Rizzoli. I understand that. I know you feel Maura was slighted in her upbringing, but Constance is the reason Maura is alive. If it hadn't been for her and Lawrence opening their hearts and home to Hope and to Maura, I don't know where either of them would be. Lawrence secured all the paperwork. He sealed every adoption file he could. He made sure Maura was protected and that her biological parentage remained a secret. I owe them _everything, _do you understand?

"You really love Maura, don't you?"

"I've loved Maura since the day Hope told me she was pregnant. I only wish I could have loved her from standing right next to her instead of standing in a crowd."

Jane reached forward and grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil. "So Redman Lynch is alive," she scrawled his name on a sheet of paper. "And he's met up with Frank. You think Frank got in touch with Seamus and brought him into the family business? You think they're trying to hurt Maura?"

"They've got Hope. Frank is the one that made the call, I'm sure of it."

Jane cocked an eyebrow. "You're positive? How do you know?"

"He sounds just like his old man. It was Frank."

"So why take Hope? Revenge?"

"Their family lost everything when Redman killed my father. Nobody ever would have found out if Hope hadn't been there that night. If they have Hope, it's for revenge."

"But why drag Maura into this?"

"I don't think Maura was ever going to be dragged into any of this until it came out that I was her father. They went from there. You led them to Hope." His voice wasn't accusatory but there was a twinge of bitterness. "Who knows how long they've been searching for Hope."

"You never saw Hope again after she gave birth to Maura?"

"Never." he insisted. "We went our separate ways that same night that we left Maura at Constance's."

"So maybe Frank came back to his son and got his help." Jane mused as she mulled over her thoughts. "It doesn't explain how he was seen in school that day, though. He couldn't have been at the shooting, so how did his prints get on the casings?"

"Listen. We need to hurry and find where they're keeping her. They'll kill her and then they will come for Maura."

"You're _sure _it isn't a hoax?"

"Call Hope's home. I know you have the number."

"Paddy-"

"-_Jane. _I've told you my side of the story. You either do your job or I go do mine and leave you with more work than you wanted."

"I'll go to the precinct and-"

The door to Jane's apartment swung open and one of the firemen walked in. He looked from Jane to Patrick. "Ma'am, this building is closed dow-oh, Detective Rizzoli. Sorry, I didn't realize that was you." He stuck out his hand for her to shake. Jane looked at him quizzically and shook it. "Oh, right. Sorry. Name is Darren. The Chief told me to be on the lookout for you. Next time just ask us to escort you into the building, if you don't mind. Health code."

"Yeah," she pulled her hand away. "Yeah, of course." She tried not to look at Patrick. A wanted man, who she shot and put in the hospital, was standing in her apartment. Darren looked over at him and again stuck out his hand. Patrick took it and shook, smiling warily.

"You look familiar." he said, chewing on the bottom of his lip. "Do I know you?"

"He is my grandfather." Jane said quickly, linking her arm with Patrick's and patting his shoulder kindly. "Yes, my grandfather. He was staying with me for a few days when the fire happened and he just wanted to come back and get a few of his things." Her eyes darted down to the coffee table and she snatched up a magazine. "Here's your magazine, grandpa." she slapped it to his chest.

"Ah," he cleared his throat and gripped the magazine, pulling it away to read the title. He squirmed. "Cosmopolitan. Yes. This is really good reading, you know." he waved it in front of Darren's face and smiled. "There is a wonderful article on page seventy-seven. Make sure you tell the women in your life to get a mammogram once every-"

"-okay, thank you grandpa!" Jane yelled, interrupting him immediately.

Darren chuckled. "Nah, it's okay. My uncle is gay too. He reads stuff like that too that." Jane had to slap a hand over her mouth to stop from laughing. She pulled it away to reveal a tense smile. "Take your time and just make sure to let me know when you guys leave, alright? It was nice meeting you," he tipped his hat to Paddy and walked out. Paddy turned to Jane once Darren had closed the apartment door.

"You're lucky my daughter loves you."

"Yeah and you're lucky I love your daughter." she hissed. "I just put my ass on the line for you. You're lucky Darren-with-the-gay-uncle doesn't watch the news or else both of our asses would be fried. I'm taking this stuff to Maura and I will start looking for any clues on Hope. I'm not missing persons and this is Boston, not North Carolina. I don't have jurisdiction. It has to be off the books. I'll start with Seamus. Frost is getting a search warrant for his house as we speak. I'll use the burn phone you gave me if I need to get a hold of you, okay?" Jane scooped up the clothes she had previously tossed out of the room and dumped them in a bag. "Take the back way, I'll go out the front."

"Detective?"

Jane turned around, tiredly swiping hair from her face and frowning. "Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"Yeah," Jane smiled a little. "Call me Jane."

* * *

><p><strong>So... let me know what you think? Review?<strong>


	24. Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall

"Frankie, what are you doing up here?" asked Jane as she walked back in.

"Where have you been?"

"You tell me yours, I'll tell you mine."

"Just came up for a visit," he shrugged. "Thought you guys might need help on the case."

Jane smirked. "You're itching to become a detective, aren't you?"

"You know I am."

"For once, you come at the right time." she said, swinging her chair around and taking a seat. "You got a search warrant, Frost?"

Frost nodded and tossed her a folded pack of papers. Jane scanned them quickly and closed them back up, stuffing them into a folder with stills from the surveillance videos and other evidence that they had collected over the past few days. "We're going over and searching the kid's house. I need you to stay here with Ma-" Before Jane could even finish her sentence, Frankie let out a long groan.

"C'mon, Janie! I'm not a babysi-" His sentence came to an abrupt halt as Jane smacked him hard on the shoulder. The door to their office space swung open and Maura stepped inside, her hair somehow looking as immaculate as it always did, even after a short nap. Jane faked a smile and Frankie swallowed his complaint. "Hey Maura."

Maura smiled. "Good afternoon, Frankie."

"Sleep okay?"

"Fine."

"That's good." A small silence lapsed between the four. Jane gathered everything on her desk slowly, then looked back to her friend. "Hey, we got a warrant to search Seamus' house. We're going to head over there now. Frankie was just telling me that Ma was makin' some cookies down in the café. Maybe you guys could go and help while we're gone."

Frowning a bit, Maura's eyes flashed quickly to Frankie and then back at Jane. "I am sure that Frankie has work to do."

"I do." Frankie said quickly.

Jane glared at him. Maura continued. "I really am alright by myself, Jane."

"Could I, uh, talk to you? Over there?" said Jane, motioning for Maura to follow her. The two huddled in a corner, leaving the two males to cast nervous glances at them both, clearly worried that there would be a classic Jane and Maura dispute. "Look," Jane ran a hand through her own hair, a wave of nerves crashing against the lining of her stomach. She did not want to be the person to tell Maura that Hope had been taken by, presumably, the same people going after Maura. In fact, Jane didn't want anyone to give Maura that news – ever. She looked at the tired creases etched into Maura's forehead, the dark circles under her eyes and the pale, colorless complexion that had replaced her normally smooth, tanned tone. "I know _you're _okay by yourself." she said. "But I'm not okay with you by yourself, alright? I would feel better if you were with someone. Someone with a gun."

"I can shoot a gun."

"Okay, someone with a gun license."

"I-"

"Oh please don't tell me you went out and got a gun license." whined Jane.

Maura pursed her lips. "_No._ I was simply going to say that I understand."

"Really?" Jane cocked an eyebrow. It usually took much longer to get Maura to agree with her.

"Really. Your concern is sweet."

Jane smiled and looked down. She brought one of her hands forward and brushed Maura's. She flinched at first, clearly surprised by the contact, but then let one of her fingers slide and connect with Jane's. "Just stay here, okay?" whispered Jane. "Don't leave. Please."

"I promise."

"Hey Jane!" called out Frankie. Jane looked over to see Frost and her brother crouched over the desk. Frankie was looking down at one of the screenshots from the surveillance cam. His face was scrunched up in concentration. "I think I know what this is." he tapped the photo, his finger pecking at the object clutched in their arsonists hand. "What about a lacrosse stick?"

"It's possible, I guess." she said as she looked down at the photo.

"It's a lacrosse stick." he looked up at his sister, his face hardened. "I'm tellin' you, it's a lacrosse stick."

Jane patted his back. "Alright, thanks. I'll keep an eye out. Frost, let's go."

–

The house looked deserted when Frost and Jane pulled up, search warrant in hand. It had an eerie feel to it, one that caused the peach hairs on the back of Jane's neck to stand straight up in warning. She nudged Frost and pointed towards the absent vehicle that they were now accustomed to seeing in the driveway. The old woman certainly didn't seem the type to drive often. Jane was largely under the impression that any shopping or otherwise was done by the boy. The two followed the path up to the front door and knocked three times.

"Boston Police, I have a search warrant." The door swung open and Jane was surprised to see Seamus. One eye was swollen and the other just beginning to form a purple ring. "Seamus..." Jane slipped her gun from her holster and held it pressed against the side of her leg. "What happened to you?"

His eyes diverted towards the ground. "Fell." he mumbled.

"Seamus, I have a warrant to search the premises. Is your grandmother home?"

"No."

"She do this to you?" asked Frost, a little unconvincingly. Neither he or Jane thought that an old woman like that could hurt a fairly well built teenage boy.

"Of course not." snapped Seamus.

"This warrant means that you have to allow us into the residence and we are allowed to look through what we need to. Do you understand that?"

Seamus skirted from the door, his eyes still not looking up at either one of them. "What are you looking for?"

Jane pulled the screen door open and stepped inside. She knew Seamus was old enough to understand a search warrant and she knew that he understood the gravity of the situation, but something about the boy struck Jane funny. He looked so weak and tired, so broken and very much alone. Her first impression of him and her impression of him then was conflicting. She turned to him and placed an hand on his arm. "Is there anyone else in the house right now?" she asked. He shook his head. "I want you to stay here with Detective Frost while I search."

"Am I going to be arrested?" he asked suddenly.

Frost and Jane exchanged looks. "Do you need to be arrested for something?"

"Well, you're looking for something, aren't you? You have already taken me in for questioning once."

"You hear about that apartment building explosion?" Frost asked him. "Where were you that night?"

"I..." he paused. "I was out."

One of Jane's eyebrows lifted in suspicion as she slipped her hands into crime scene gloves. "You were out?"

"Yeah, with a friend."

"What's this friend's name?" Jane saw the panic in Seamus's face. "Seamus, what aren't you telling us?" The boy looked pained. He rubbed at his eye but quickly pulled his hand away, his eyes brimming with tears from the pain. He pulled away from the two detectives and collapsed on the couch, hunched over with his head resting on the palms of his hands. His shoulders shook but Jane was sure he wasn't crying. If anything, he was shaking from fear. She returned to his side and gripped at his quivering shoulders as tightly as she could without hurting him. He looked up. "You know something."

"I didn't do anything!" he pleaded. "I didn't want any of this."

"Seamus," said Jane seriously. "Why were your prints on the bullet casings?"

"Nan tells me not to get into her stuff..." he shook his head back and forth. "I just wanted to see, you know? I saw them when I was putting away the groceries. She kept them above the fridge."

"Are you telling me that those bullets were your grandmothers?"

"She didn't do anything either. She couldn't have. She's _good._"

"Frost, kitchen. Check the cabinet above the fridge. Okay, Seamus. This is very important. _Where _were you the night of the apartment explosion? Who were you with? Were you with your grandmother?"

"_No._"

"Then who?"

"I can't tell you!"

"Kid!" yelled Jane. "There are lives at stake. You want anyone to die? "

"Jane!" called out Frost from the other room. She hesitated. Seamus was on the edge. Finally she stood and made her way down the long hallway. He called her name again but it wasn't from the kitchen. He was standing in front of the doorway of a room at the far right end of the hall, his back towards Jane. She edged her way behind him. "Door's locked. This the kid's room?" Jane shook her head.

"His room is that one."

"Back up." There wasn't much room but Frost thrust his shoulder at the door. He grimaced. "That didn't work."

"Gotta be a key." She felt the edges of the door frame but to no avail. Finally Frost made his way into the bathroom. Jane heard drawers opening and shutting and soon he reappeared with a sly grin and a bobby pin between his fingers. She couldn't help but grin as well. "Do a lot of lock picking in your day, Frost?"

"Only when absolutely necessary, of course." He jammed the pin inside the lock and moments latter the knob loosened. "After you," Frost waved Jane in.

By nature, Jane could pinpoint the exact moments in her life where she was scared down to her bones. Many had to do with Hoyt. A few had to do with Maura. The few moments of her career where she didn't know if she would make it – the invasion at the department, the bullet sliding through her insides, tied up and helpless with Frankie – flashed in her mind, but there was nothing that could equate to what Jane was feeling in that moment.

The walls were something that Jane had seen many times before, but the shock of the face staring back at her was suffocating. Smooth, ivory skin. Blue-green eyes. Silky, honey-blonde hair in light, loose waves. Some smiles, some frowns. A shot of in front of Jane's very own apartment only days ago, two bodies embracing. Maura. Everything Maura.

"What the hell..." drawled Frost as his gloved finger reached out to touch a portrait. Some hung loose from wires. There were news clippings dating back years on Maura but they looked freshly printed and hardly worn. A few featured Jane herself. Another portion of the room was solely dedicated to Patrick Doyle. Some photographs were surely older than even Jane. She recognized some of the men and women in group photos, faces from mob files that had gone missing over the years or faces that had taken the fall for those who were too important to lose.

But even Paddy's section could not compare to the Maura Isles shrine that took over the vast majority of the room. The pictures were taken from a distance and were no older than a few weeks. Jane vaguely remembered the outfits and she knew that could only mean that it was recent. There were photos from the shooting and photos of Maura in the hospital by Constance's bedside. Jane could feel the blood rushing from her head. All of this had been here the entire time.

"I'm going to talk to Seamus." growled Jane, snapping one picture in particular – one of she and Maura, the night they kissed again in front of her apartment – off the wall.

"Jane stop, you can't. He's a minor."

"To hell with the rules! We need answers and he has them."

"You want this case thrown out?" he yelled back.

"Then I sure as hell am searching his room." She didn't wait for Frost to answer. Already Jane was wrenching Seamus's bedroom door open and stomping in. Her hands dug into the sheets of his bed and she tore them off. One dresser drawer, two dresser drawers, three dresser drawers and then Jane saw it. It was perched between his desk and the bed, hidden behind a bag and a basketball that looked brand new and untouched. Jane seized it and stormed from the room, not giving a damn what Frost had to say about much of anything. Her fingers were wrapped around the fabric of Seamus's shirt before the other detective even knew his partner was in the room. "This yours?"

"I-"

"Tell me!"

"Jane!" barked Frost. "Let him go."

Jane pushed him back onto the couch. "Is this yours?"

"I, well, yeah. I mean, it's mine. I played lacrosse for a few days until I got cut from the team. Nan's idea..."

"I'm going to ask you one more time." seethed Jane. "Where were you the night of the apartment explosion? If I take this to the lab, will I find explosive residue on it?"

"No!"

"Then where were you?"

"I was with my father!" he finally screamed.

"Your father." Jane fell back a little. "Your father. Frank Lynch."

"We were just hanging out, I swear. I've never really met him before and he showed up and Nan said-"

"Nan? Your grandmother knew he was here and let you go with him? The other day, it sounded to me like your grandmother didn't really care for her beloved son."

Seamus hung his head. "She's been talking to him for a couple weeks now. He called one night. After that, Nan told me that he was coming for a visit and that we were going to become men. She said that he was finally doing something right and that I was going to help him." He shivered a bit. A wave of regret slid through Jane. She shouldn't have been so rough with him. Regaining her temper was most important in that moment.

"Where did you go that night?" she asked a bit softer.

"He said he'd been hurt. He said that the reason he hadn't been around to be my dad was because he was working on a way to make us a family again. He asked me about Nan and if she was good to me and he said that..."

"That what?"

"That if his plan worked, she would never be mean to me again."

"Did you go to the apartments?"

"I didn't." he insisted. "I got scared. He kept ranting about how that night was going to change everything."

"And he took the lacrosse stick?"

"Yeah."

"What happened?"

"I watched him pull out the bomb, fireworks, whatever it was. I knew I was already in trouble with you guys. I didn't want to get in anymore." His words were breathy and strung together.

"Seamus, it's okay. Just tell me."

"I ran away. I was a couple of blocks down when I heard the glass break. I swear, I didn't do _anything._"

"I know." said Jane soothingly. "I know. Keep going."

"I saw the lights and heard the sirens and I took off back for home. When I got there, dad was waiting for me." he pointed towards his left eye, the one that was already swollen and purple. "He gave me this. He said that I was a coward. He said that I would disgrace our family even more, that I needed to prove I was one of them, that I wanted our family's name restored. Nan let him hit me." He bowed his head and shook. "It's the first time I have ever seen her look so proud of someone." Jane wasn't quite sure if there was anything in the world she could say to make Seamus feel better. "Could I go to the bathroom?" he asked quietly. Jane only nodded. Words were a struggle. She watched him go before turning to Frost.

"Put out a BOLO for Frank Lynch. We got him. Seamus just needs to testify."

"What do we do about the grandma?"

"Put one out for her too. The bullets were hers. We can tie her to the shooting, child abuse and stalking. The room back there is a case for itself. This is going to be over soon." she rubbed her temples. "I only wish that Seamus could get some form of a happy ending. Sixteen years old. He'll be shut up in foster care for the next two years, and then what? Live the criminal life of his father?"

"I don't think the kid's got it in him."

"I don't think there is much left in him. He's so-" Jane jumped at the sudden bang. She yanked her gun out in from of her and screamed Seamus's name. Moments went by and Jane wrenched open the door. Her eyes fell first to the floor. The boy was sprawled against the floor. Thick blood gushed from a bullet wound on his head. A second wound, from what looked like him falling against the toilet, bled as well. A small hand gun was resting loosely in his hand. "Seamus." Jane fell down and pressed her ear to his chest. He wasn't breathing. She checked his pulse and the color drained from her face."Come on, kid. Why'd you have to – _God." _Jane stood and wiped a tear from her eye with her sleeve. Frost was standing in the door way doing his best to not look at the body. He nodded at the mirror.

Seamus's last words were smeared on the mirror in an unpleasant plum shade of lipstick.

_The war ends with me. I'm so sorry. Please don't let them get away with it._

"You okay?" asked Frost.

"Yeah." Jane replied gruffly. Her phone rang and she slammed her hand into her pocket to grab it. "What?"

"_Jane..._" It was Frankie.

"Look, now isn't a good time."

"_Jane, Maura's missing." _

Jane braced herself against the wall. "What do you mean?"

"_I was called down by my boss. He needed to see me. An officer was getting off at the elevator just as I took the call. I asked him to watch the door for me while I ran down. I swear, Jane. I was gone ten minutes." _

"Had you seen this guy before?"

"_What?" _

"The officer, dammit! Have you seen him before? What was his name? Badge number?"

"_Jane, he was in full uniform." _

"Frankie!"

"_I didn't get it. I didn't get his name or number." _

"God dammit, Frankie."

"_Jane, I'm so-" _

"I know." Jane ended the call. "Maura's missing." she turned to Frost. "He's got her. Frank's got her."

"How do you know?"

Jane just looked at the mirror. "Because Seamus knew."

–

**Review? :) The next chapter will be up tomorrow evening, for sure. Two more chapters!**


	25. Battle of the Heart

There was a tightness in Jane's chest that she couldn't shake as she and Frost crossed the street to their parked car. Teams had already arrived to secure the scene. It was hard, but Jane shook the image of Seamus from her mind. She had to. She wasn't about to let him die in vain.

Frost insisted on driving. Jane didn't mind, but her brain fought valiantly against her thoughts. She wasn't sure where exactly they were driving to. The thought of scouring the city crossed her mind, but she didn't even know where to begin. All Jane could really be sure about was that wherever Maura was, she was with Hope.

That didn't exactly settle the nerves.

It took her only a few breathless minutes to fill Frost in on her conversation with Paddy. She had been meaning to do it anyway, but the excitement of possibly securing something against Seamus or coming up with concrete evidence of whoever started the fire was too overwhelming. He listened to her carefully until she finished and even when her voice fell silent, he remained still and quiet. Jane couldn't tell if Barry was angry with her for not immediately sharing the information or if he was simply swallowing it all. His key turned in the ignition and he pulled away from the scene and down the road until again he stopped and pulled over.

"What are you doing?"

"I just needed to get away from there. It's hard to think with all the commotion."

"We need to find Maura." Jane said desperately. Frost caught her eye and she pulled away from his gaze, staring out the window and trying to calm the screaming voices in her head.

"I saw the pictures." he muttered quietly. "In the room. This isn't the time to talk about it, but I'm here for you, Jane. We're gonna find Maura, and when it's all over-"

Jane's mouth went dry. "Will it be in time?" Frost sad nothing. "I don't know where to begin. Paddy didn't have any clu-" she froze. "Paddy. Paddy, the burn phone." She groped her pockets in search of the phone but came up short. It was back at the office with all her things. Jane had never even considered using it, mostly because she didn't believe there would ever be a time that she would need to get Paddy's help on something. "We need to get in touch with him."

"Would he know?"

She felt her hope slip away. He didn't know only a few hours ago when they talked. What made an hour or two any different?

"You're right." her voice was hallow. "He wouldn't."

"Jane-"

"Everything we know about Frank. We need to think." She closed her eyes tight. "The god damn grandmother has been in on this the whole time. I think Paddy was wrong. Redman isn't involved. It's Frank and Nessa pullin' the strings on this. I think Redman co-signing the lease for Frank was is here. He started the fire."

"Who shot the weapon?"

"I don't think Frank was here yet when that happened." Jane frowned. "So the grandma? It wasn't Seamus. I don't think Seamus had it in him. I think he was telling the truth."

"How does an old woman like that hobble away from the scene unnoticed?"

"Exactly what you just said. She's old. We didn't even suspect her. I just thought she was cranky. She seemed to hate her son and husband enough. Where would they go?" Just then, Jane's phone rang. She looked down at the caller id and for a split second, she thought not to answer it. It was Frankie. Her gut got the better of her though and she pulled the phone up to her ear. She barely got out a greeting before Frankie began talking.

"_I got a trace on her phone before it went dead." _he said excitedly. Jane's stomach jolted. _"Down by the old docks, I think. We got it just in time, Janie. He must of smashed her phone." _

"I know where they're going. Frost, drive."

"Drive where?"

"Go straight. Go to the docks."

"_Jane?" _

"Thanks, Frankie."

"_Jane, you need backu-"_

Jane let the line go dead. "Go to the docks. That old warehouse that Paddy and I met up in. It makes sense. That place was used for years by the mob. Frank's been out of here for a long time. If he did meet up with Redman, Redman probably told his grandson all his old places. It makes sense." She exhaled. "It makes sense. Go."

* * *

><p>The car came to a screeching halt. Jane glared at Frost. Part of her plan – in fact, the only part of her plan that she really had, if anyone could really call what she had in mind a plan at all – was being as silent as possible, and his dramatic entrance did not get them off on the right footing. She banked on the old walls being properly insulated and the heavy traffic and rolling waves to dull down the sound of their arrival. They made their way on foot and Jane showed him the entrance she had used the day she met Paddy.<p>

Frost didn't make a peep about calling for backup. If there was one thing about Frost that Jane loved most, it was his inexplicable trust of her. Not that Korsak didn't trust her, but there was something about the way Frost seemed to follow Jane and play by her rules, not necessarily the rules they were meant to follow. He had her guts, even when he couldn't stand looking at others. Jane had always felt safe with any partner she had ever had, but there was a bond with Frost that she couldn't break and that she didn't want to break. He didn't question her. He didn't need to.

They made there way through the first floor with ease. The way they had to maneuver themselves through the rubble and dirt reminded her of a ballet performance, in a dirty, less elegant way. Their feet were carefully placed, their movements precise and well thought out. Nothing about it was free. They were restricted to their need of absolute silence.

"We're going to clear this place faster if we split up." he muttered, pulling open a cupboard door with his foot. Cockroaches scuttled out and dispersed in every direction. Neither of them hid their grimace.

"I don't hear anything."

"They might not be here."

"We're not leaving until we check."

"How many floors are there?"

"Five." Jane turned her head to look at one of the staircases up. "There might be a cellar or something, though. Basement."

"You loaded?"

"Yeah. You?"

"I'm good."

"No crashing into any rooms without backup. You find 'em, radio me." She blinked. "No casualties."

"No casualties." Frost repeated.

* * *

><p>"Get over there.' Frank shoved Maura to her knees. Maura barely flinched. She wouldn't show fear. She wouldn't give in. She scrambled back though and let herself meet the wall behind her. The man barely paid attention to her after that. In the middle of the room sat Hope. Her arms and legs were bound to a chair – no, you couldn't quite call it a chair. Only half of the back was still attached and one of the legs was shorter than the other. Hope wobbled a bit, the uneven leg chair only exasperated more by the uneven floor. Hope didn't look at Maura, though Maura found herself craning her neck to get a look at Hope. The woman hardly looked scared. In fact, she looked only determined. Jane saw not her own face, but the face of her best friend. Determination. Strength. Courage.<p>

Something she wasn't sure she had.

Frank toppled over a misplaced box and spat angrily at the ground. The man was tall and gangly. His hair had long gone grey and there were patches missing here and there. Though he wasn't very old, the wrinkles lining his gaunt face aged him mercilessly. He walked with a limp and his face was drenched in cold sweat. He was hardly a man to be admired. If anything, Frank Lynch looked like a worn out junkie who hadn't gotten his next fix. A cold metal gun was clutched in his fist but Maura found herself not believing that he would use it. He was an angry man but he didn't look violent. He looked sad.

She shook her head and swallowed. This time yesterday she wouldn't believe she would be in the predicament she was in now. Would Jane find her in time? Could Jane find her in time?

"She'll be here soon." Frank muttered, his voice shaky and distant. Maura watched as he paced the room. The jeans he wore were several sizes too big and Frankie found himself constantly pulling them up. His shirt fell loosely as well. It looked like a large piece of whale skin; grey and wrinkly, but an oddly shiny texture to it. He was swallowed whole in his clothes. "She'll be here. She'll be so happy."

"Who will be here?" asked Maura. Frank whipped around to look at her. Before Maura could blink, a sweaty palm was sliding across her face. It stung. She backed further away from him.

"I didn't say you could talk. Just shut up."

"Leave her alone." said Hope in a cool voice. "She had no part in this. She is innocent. You are angry at me."

"You're damn straight I'm angry at you." he shouted, moving his attention from Maura to Hope. Maura wanted to shout out, yell at him not to touch Hope, but her voice was paralyzed. She couldn't speak. Above all, Maura was interested in the conversation. "Innocent?" he continued, his fist shaking in the air. "Yeh think your precious daughter is innocent in all this? She is the damn reason we're here. If you weren't such a little whore-" he stepped to her and gripped her cheeks between his two fingers. "-my family lost it all. I lost my father. My mother lost a husband. You know what you did to my family? You destroyed us. We've been waiting for this moment. I've been waiting for this moment. I'll get my glory back. Paddy'll come and rescue his two girls and then I'll kill you." He brought the gun up to Hope's head. "I'll kill you and your bastard daughter. I'll make him watch." His voice dropped to a whisper. "He is going to suffer like my family suffered for years. He is going to feel the pain we felt when we lost the people we loved. He is going to regret the day that he brought you into his bed."

"Your family brought that upon themselves. Your grandfather killed a man-"

"-it was _none of your business." _He shoved her so hardly that the chair toppled over and Hope was stuck on her side. Frank didn't make any move to fix her. Maura gave a little whimper but remained in her place. "None of your _damn _business. None of it. None of it." His eyes were wild. "My dad told me the story. How you decided to take matters into your own hands. It was none of your business!" he screeched. "What were yeh doin' under that window, eh? You and Paddy were in it together. You destroyed us. _Destroyed _us!" He slammed his fist against the wall. It cracked. "No money," he seethed, sucking in air between his teeth. "No home. Your damn father stripped away any honor my father had."

"I would think the brutal murders would have stripped away any honor your father and your family could have had." Hope replied cooly. Maura's mouth dropped a little. She was sure that attitude wasn't going to get them out of their situation, if they were to get out at all. Frank yanked Hope back up into a sitting position and slammed his hand into her shoulder.

"Our life is our business."

"And when you steal the life of others?"

"You're just as much of a bitch as my father used to tell me."

"At least _I _live up to my name." That sent Hope cascading backwards, stuck on her back, still tied to the chair. Maura could see a thin trickle of blood pooling on the ground.

"Bet your kid here got a real nice life." He turned to Maura. "Got some bed time stories. Had a nice cosy room to go to sleep in. Clothes." Uneasiness trickled down Maura's throat. The way he was looking at her sent prickling, unpleasant tingles down her spine. "She got everything. I read up on you, on your family. Your _life. _The great Dr. Maura Isles. Everyone loves you." He licked his lips. "Want to know what I was doin' while you were growin' up? Tryin' to survive. Didn't have no good clothes. Barely went to school. Did you ever go to bed with an empty stomach, doctor?" He crouched down and crawled so he was only inches away from Maura's face. His breath smelled heavily of whisky and cheap beer, the kind that not even Jane would touch. "I did. Nearly every night. Dad drank us into debt and we had to watch him die a little more every night. Your mother was famous in my household. If you could call it a house, that is. But she was the villain in my bedtime stories. Without fail," his breath was ragged and heavy. "-every night my dad would come into my room and tell me stories about your _mother. _I was always the hero. I was always the one to save my family." Frank brought a hand up and shoved Maura roughly against the wall. "He'd beat me afterwards – said I needed to toughen up. To get strong. Every night."

"I-"

He spat in her face. "Don't saddle me with your meaningless apologies."

"Leave her alone." croaked Hope.

"Don't think I will." he said, grinning. Frank stood and propped Hope back up. "You couldn't leave things alone, could you Hope? And that's why you're here. That is why your daughter is going to die, and then you, and then Paddy. She'll be here soon." Again, he grinned. "She'll be here and she'll finally be proud of me. I've finally done it. I've finally avenged my father."

A fleeting flicker of realization shot through Maura's veins. "Your mother. Seamus's grandmother."

He turned slowly to Maura. "I see you've met them."

"Why do this to your son?" asked Maura. "You can kill us, sure. But why take away the person who has raised him? Why take away your child's innocence? Don't you think Seamus deserves better than the foster system? You'll be caught. Kill us or not, you'll be caught and you will go to prison." Her voice was steadier than she could have hoped for.

Frank rolled his eyes and his lip curled, his voice thick and snarling. "And who's going to catch me, doctor? Your detective? Your _lover?_" Maura flinched. "I've been watchin' you. I see the way you look at her. See the way she don't look at you back. She reject you, doctor?" he leaned back down to her. "I know how that feels. To be rejected." Frank let one of his fingers stroke down Maura's cheek. She slapped it away and he slammed her back against the wall. "My mother has rejected me my whole life, but not anymore. Not after today." He licked his lips. "Not after this. Can you say the same for your detective? Will she accept you has her lover once she finds herself suspended over your dead body? Well," he chuckled. "Yeh won't know tha', will yeh? You're weak, doctor." he hissed. "That's why she don't love you. You don't live up to her expectations. You're nothin' to her. There are hundreds of medical examiners. You ain't nothin' special. A new chief medical examiner will easily fill your shoes. That's all you are. A medical examiner, while she's _your _detective. Pity. But who can be surprised? Your own mother didn't want you. We have that in common."

"I am nothing like you."

"You sure about that?" He grabbed her arm and squeezed. "We both come from the same line, doctor. This blood that runs through your veins. We come from killers. You ain't no better than me because you've got a prissy mother that wasn't one of us. That just makes it worse. You're dirty, doctor. You've got no identity. You ain't one of us but you ain't one of them."

"You take away identities. I give the dead their identities back. I have a purpose. I am nothing like you, but I am something. I am something more than you." Her voice quivered. "I am better than you, and if you're going to kill me, fine, but I will not let you kill me and strip my identity. I know who I am."

"Just as pretentious as your worthless mother." He pulled her up by her shirt and shoved her gruffly on top of a few low crates. Maura's head spun with how quickly she was moved. Frank was much stronger than he appeared. "Bet you ain't a virgin, pretty thing like you." His fingers danced down Maura's stomach and played with the button of her black slacks which were now covered in the dirt and dust of the old warehouse. Maura shuddered and tried pulling away from him but he only gripped her arm harder. "Tell me, doctor. Did your detective ever touch you like this?"

* * *

><p>The fifth floor was Jane's domain. It wasn't very big. She could see straight down onto the fourth floor from a giant, gaping hole that must have been caused years ago. It was clear that this floor was used for office space years ago. Only one door was opened at the far end of the hallway.<p>

Jane saw it as she entered the room. Frank's fingers were slipping into the hem of Maura's shirt. She lay beneath him, immobilized, whether from fear or attack Jane couldn't be sure. Her eyes were shut tight and Jane heard the muffled sob from the back of Maura's throat shatter into a million tears. Jane's gun was raised in less time than she had to think about where she was shooting or about calling Frost up for backup. Her heart sank as the bullet only grazed his shoulder. It was enough to send him backwards and off of Maura who, the second his greasy body propelled backwards from hers, scuttled away and began efforts to untie Hope from the chair she was bound to. Jane tore her eyes from her friend to look back at the wounded Frank.

He bore no sign of pain, only new found determination. Swatting at the blood from his shoulder carelessly, he advanced on Jane quicker than even she could have expected. She felt his fist before even realizing he had gotten close enough to hit her. Maura released a strangled cry and Jane swung back, more out of desperation than aiming for accuracy. The gun in her hand flew wayward and soon she and Frank were struggling against one another, fighting for the prize to win the war.

To Jane's luck, and to her horror, she found the gun not on the floor where it had fallen but strongly gripped in Maura's petite hands. Frank's eyes traveled from Maura's feet up to her fixed gaze. In the struggle they had both fallen belly down on the ground. Jane looked up at Maura in awe; she hardly recognized her. Her hair was matted in sweat and blood. A sheen of sweat glistened against her forehead and just above her lip. Though Maura's arms shook, Jane saw no sign of wavering in her eyes. Maura was looking directly at Frank and Jane looked over to him and for the first time saw an unfathomable fear. He was afraid of Maura.

Even Jane felt a new surge of adrenaline as she looked at Muara holding the gun so securely, so dangerously, in such a way that not Jane nor anyone else could teach her. Her unbreakable stance screamed revenge. Frank saw no weakness in Maura's eyes because, unlike Jane who had come bursting in the room and let her emotions get the better of her, Maura had turned into an unreadable stone.

Frank gathered himself up from the floor slowly, his eyes never leaving the piece of cold metal. Maura had it first pointed at his head and then let it travel to his heart. His eyes flicked and he kicked his lips, his dry tongue nervously flitting back and forth.

"Do it, then." he hissed, his eyes glowering. He was taunting her. "C'mon, do me in. You know you want to. You want my blood on your hands. You want me to die." He licked his lips again. It sicked Jane. Maura propels herself forward, exhibiting strength that Jane didn't think was possible in the otherwise calm and orderly woman. Frank was slammed between Maura and crates and her gun was pressed against the stark skin at his throat.

Jane found herself powerless. "Maura," she pleaded from behind. "Don't. Revenge isn't worth the price you pay for it. There is no such thing as a noble murderer." She couldn't do it. Jane wanted the piece of shit dead, but she couldn't let Maura do it. She couldn't let Maura live her life knowing she had taken another's. Jane had enough of a hard time living with that reality every single day. She would not allow Maura to live in her own personal hell.

The only sound was Frank's heavy panting and the thumping of Jane's own heart. Finally Maura lowered the gun and let it slip from her fingers and onto the floor. Jane leapt forward, her heart surging with relief, and kicked the gun away from Frank's reach. Maura stumbled backwards while Jane slammed Frank into the crates once more, her anger bubbling dangerously close to the age for what Frank almost just made Maura do. She slung the pair of handcuffs from her belt loop and slapped them around his wrists, pinning him roughly once more against the crates.

"Untie Hope," Jane growled to Maura.

"Jane." she squeaked.

It was all Jane could do but turn around to see the gun pointed at both her and Frank. Evidently at some point Hope had finished the task of untying herself. In Maura's place she stood with Jane's gun. The woman was hallow, a ghost of the person who Jane had met only once before. Before Jane could side step in front of Frank, three bangs rang out. Jane knew her gun was now empty. Hope's eyes stared forward, cold and unforgiving, as Frank pummeled backwards, his blood flinging haphazardly in the air around them as if it were a display of fireworks, coating Jane in a fine layer.

Jane's own blood spilled from her arm where one of Hope's bullets sliced through her jacket and skin. She grimaced and clutched at the wound, gaping slightly at what had just happened. She staggered forward, her cheek sore still from where Frank had sucker punched her, her mouth tasting faintly of metal and her arm throbbing, and looped her hand around Hope's wrist just firmly enough that the older woman wasn't startled by the touch.

Her hand went limp and Jane caught the falling gun with her free hand. Hope shook a bit and took a step back, a delicate pale hand covering her mouth in the horrific realization of what she had just done – taken a life, taken a son, taken a father. Her body seemed to crumble before Jane's eyes and she fell down onto the floor, a floor stained with a river of blood that had no single source, but a source of many. Jane's blood. Maura's blood. Hope's. Frank's. The blood of criminals, of victims, of protectors and of unrelenting, consuming love. Blood of the mother who gave up her child to protect her. Blood of the son who lived to avenge his father. Blood of the heart. Bloodshed of a battle.

Jane was fully aware of Maura standing behind her. She stood and faced her, her eyes for the first time focusing on the gash from the middle of Maura's forehead and down to her eyebrow. The bleeding had slowed. Jane pressed a finger to Maura's forehead and wiped some of the blood away. Surely there would be a scar. Maura flinched slightly but moved into Jane's touch, her hand finding Jane's forearm and squeezing.

"I'm fine." she whispered faintly. Her voice shook. Was it from the fear that had consumed her all day The blood loss? The shock of an aftermath? Surreal, Jane thought to herself. How surreal it was to be standing in front of Maura and be comforted by her when she was the one who had gone through the most, who had nearly suffered a fate worse than death twice now, first at the hands of Jane's own enemy and now at the hands of her biological mother's enemy. She shrunk back from the doctor and bit her lip, ashamed and embarrassed at her inability to keep the person she loved – and yes, Jane reasoned, she loved Maura. She would never be able to deny herself that thought again. - safe. Jane brought her attention back to Hope and helped her stand.

"Look who I found in the basement." came a gruff voice from the doorway. Frost stood, his eyes roaming over the scene with shock and guilt. Clutched tightly in his grasp was Seamus's grandmother. "Jane, what-" He looked at Frank's dead body and at Jane's gun on the ground. "Jane..."

"One dead." Jane rasped, nodding at Frank. "Two wounded." She pointed towards Maura and Hope.

"Jane-"

A wave of dizziness crashed over Jane. She braced herself against Maura, the nearest thing she could find, and squeezed her eyes tightly. The last thing she heard was the quivering voice of the old woman and the sound of spit slipping from her lips.

"Worthless son."

Black.

* * *

><p><strong>Let me know what you think?<strong>


	26. Honesty

_The blood seeped through her jacket. Each drop that hit the floor echoed in her ears, almost painfully. Everything around her was blanketed in a fine layer of red blood, dripping and dripping and dripping. Jane clasped her hands over her ears. Where was Frost? Where was Korsak? Why was no one there to help her find Maura? _

_Paddy stood in front of her. His image flickered before her eyes. He was saying something that Jane couldn't understand, pointing in a direction that Jane couldn't see. The only sound now came from the thudding of her own heart. She had to find Maura. She couldn't lose her. Why couldn't she find her? Her fist slammed into a door and she pulled it back in agony, adding it to her growing list of injuries. Blood trickled from her knuckles but nothing hurt worse than the terrifying fear settling itself in the pit of her stomach. "Maura!" she called out, but her voice was hoarse and it barely surpassed a whisper. Another door, and another and another. "Why are there so many doors?" she choked out, pointing wildly at Paddy and pounding another open with her fist. Paddy vanished._

"_You'll never find her." a sneering voice said from behind. Her breath caught in her throat and Jane fell backwards, Hoyt hovering over her aggressively. "You won't get there in time." _

"_You're dead." _

"_I'll always be with you, Jane. You must know that." It was the smile. It was always the smile that gave Jane the overwhelming feeling that she needed to vomit. "And soon she'll be with me. She will be all mine. You won't get there in time." _

"_You're not real. You're dead." _

_He shrugged and leaned forward, his hot, putrid breath clinging to Jane's skin. "I'm more real than I have ever been. You may have killed my body, but I'll always be with you, detective." And then he pulled back and vanished, much like Paddy had, and Jane turned to the right and retched. Wiping her mouth, Jane stood and kicked open one more door frantically. She had to find Maura. Why wasn't Maura yelling out? "Maura!" yelled Jane, hoping her voice would find her. _

"_Detective Rizzoli!" _

"_Seamus?" Jane froze. Seamus stood in front of her. Dried blood caked his hair and she could see the hole where the bullet went through. He reached out to her and gripped her arm. _

"_Why did you let me die?" _

"_Seam-" _

"_Why didn't you follow me to the bathroom?" _

_Jane shook her head. "I didn't-" _

"_Why didn't anyone care about me?" he screamed. "Why didn't anyone see what they were doing to me?" _

_A tear slipped down her cheek. "I'm so sorry." _

"_It's all your fault! It's your fault I'm dead! It's your fault my dad is dead! It's your fault that Maura is dead!" _

"_Maura isn't dead." Seamus began to fade. "Seamus, wait! Maura isn't dead!" She lunged forward, trying desperately to wrap her fingers around his departing figure. Her hands only slipped through the air. "Tell me Maura isn't dead!" And then he was gone. Just like that. Jane spun around and looked but found no trace of the angry, broken boy. "She's not dead." she hissed. "She is not dead. She can't be dead. Maura!" The hallway had shrunk when she entered it again. Only one door was visible. Even the door she came out of had vanished. Jane rushed forward and tugged at the handle, pulling until it finally gave away and she fell through. Frank stood in front of her with his gun pointed at her heart. Behind him, Maura's motionless body. "No." _

"_She's dead, detective." _

"_No!" _

"_You were too late." _

"_Maura," Tears splashed down to the floor. Jane knelt beside her friend and pulled her up against her knees, stroking the honey colored hair with one finger and clutching desperately to Maura's cold, lifeless hand. "Sweetie, you need to wake up. Come on, Maura." _

"_I told you she's dead." _

"_LEAVE!" screamed Jane. "Maura! I love you. I love you, please. I'm sorry I wasn't here in time. I'm sorry I didn't tell you that I love you. I'm so sorry, Maura. Please. Please," she pulled her body up and held Maura to her chest, gripping the doctor as hard as she could. _

"_How many people are you going to sacrifice for her?" Jane whipped around. Hoyt had come back. He walked steadily around her. He looked younger than Jane had ever seen him. "You let that boy die because you were so preoccupied with keeping her alive. You let Korsak get shot for her." _

"_I wasn't even there when Korsak-" _

"_Tsk, tsk, Jane. Can't you just admit it when you've done wrong? A boy is dead. His father is dead. All around you is _death. _But the only death that haunts you is hers." _

"_You don't know me." _

"_Ah, but that's not true. I know you better than you know yourself, Jane. How selfish. How despicable. Putting the life of one person above so many others'..." _

"_Shut up." hissed Jane. _

"_And in the end... you couldn't even save her. After _all that trouble._" _

_Jane turned her attention back to the lifeless Maura in her arms. The tears came down like a raging waterfall then, her sobs shaking her body. "You're my best friend." she cried into Maura's shoulder. "What have I done? God, Maura. I'm so sorry. I tried to protect you. I promised Paddy. I promised myself. I promised you nothing would happen. Please, Maura. Maura. Maura!" she found herself screaming louder and louder. Her throat constricted, her heart beat in a wild rhythm against her chest. The room was swirling and she choked back heavy sobs while at the same time trying to suck in gulps of fresh air. Nothing seemed enough. The harder she tried, the harder it became to breathe. Maura's body vanished from her arms and everything around her was black, but she could still hear herself screaming out her best friend's name. _

"Jane, it's me! I'm right here, Jane. Jane?"

"Get away from me." Jane shoved paramedics back. "Get off me! Hoyt, get off me! Get off me! I have to get to Maura, get off me!"

"It's okay, I'm right here. You've lost a lot of blood. Hoyt isn't here, Jane. Hoyt is dead. You killed him months ago." Maura bent down and soothingly stroked Jane's hair, pulling the tangled brown mess back and tucking it behind Jane's ear. She cupped the sides of Jane's face and forced the detective to look at her. "I'm right here. I'm safe. It's okay."

"Maura?"

"It's me."

Jane ran a tired hand down he slope of Maura's face. "You're okay?"

"I'm okay." repeated Maura. "You saved me."

Sweaty and pale, Jane fell back on the stretcher and closed her eyes, forcing the frightened tears from her nightmare away. She groped for Maura's hand and squeezed as tightly as she would permit herself to do, as she didn't want to hurt Maura, but the longer she held on the tighter Maura squeezed as well. Around her Jane could hear paramedics moving and she felt the pinch of something being poked into her arm, but she barely grimaced. The only thing she was fully aware of was the feeling of Maura's warm hand in her own. Warm. Living. Jane could feel the blood pumping through Maura's veins. She was okay. She was alive. Jane made it in time, but the voices from her nightmare still haunted her. The idea that she could have not made it, that Maura could be dead, that Frank could have hurt her in a way that Jane couldn't of fixed. She choked a sob back and sat up, pulling her hand away from Maura and swiping her sweaty brow. Paramedics tried pushing her back down but she fought against them, ignoring Maura's pleas for her cooperation.

"I need air."

"You need _blood._" said Maura.

"Stop." she pushed Maura back a step. "Don't."

'Don't what?"

"I almost killed you."

Maura's mouth fell open. "What?"

A rush of dizziness came back over Jane and she sat back down, but refused to lay. "I could have killed you tonight. I wasn't thinking. I wasn't being a cop. I almost got you killed. I can't..." she finally acquiesced to the pleading of the medical team around her, falling back on the stretcher and submitting to the wave of dizziness. She pulled Maura down with her, though, and whispered in her ear, only half consciously. "-I can't ever let my feelings for you get in the way of doing my job. People died because of it."

And then she was out.

* * *

><p>"Knock, knock." Maura looked up from her desk. Frankie stood in the doorway, one hand gripping a sandwich bag labeled in Angela's handwriting and in the other hand was a single flower. He held it out to Maura and she looked up surprised. He smiled. "Welcome back." he said kindly. "Ma packed you a lunch."<p>

"That was so nice of her." said Maura, too polite to mention that she'd eaten lunch already. She graciously accepted the bag and placed it on the corner of her desk. "And the flower is from Angela, too?"

"No, I, uh..." he squirmed. "Maura, I'm really sorry."

"Oh, Frankie..."

"Really. That shouldn't have happened the way it did. I'm sorry I left you."

"It was going to happen." she replied. "Regardless of whether it was you keeping watch over me or Jane, something would have had to happen eventually. It's over now." Her fingers wrapped around the stem of the light, yellow colored flower. "It's beautiful. Thank you." It really was. "You can have a seat if you want. Or do you have to get back to work?"

"I have some time to kill."

"How's Jane?"

"You haven't talked to her?"

Maura chewed on her bottom lip. "We haven't spoken much after she insisted on being let out of the hospital."

"Didn't you guys stay together?"

"Yes, but..." she trailed off, lost in the memory of their silent evening that night and the two since then. Their nights consisted of coming back from work, eating a silent meal, and heading to bed. At some point during the night, their arms would find their way around each other, but the mornings were always the same – innocent shrugging away from each other, taking turns using the bathroom, and then leaving for work in separate cars. They didn't talk about that night or any nights before that. Their individual nightmares were soothed only by the other's presence. "-we don't talk much."

"You guys are practically living together."

"It's complicated."

"You guys haven't talked at all? Not even about what happened?"

'Frankie..." Maura drawled tiredly. "She doesn't want to talk. About any of it. I haven't a clue why. She has been so closed off. That night in the ambulance..."

"What?"

"She yelled something about Hoyt. When the paramedics were trying to calm her, she thought their hands were Hoyt's."

"I don't think that bastard has ever left her."

"I know he hasn't. It was the terror in her eyes, though, when she finally opened them. It was haunting. I just wish I knew what went on in her head that night. Sometimes it's like she doesn't want anything to do with me anymore."

"Jane closes herself off. She'll come around."

"I know. I'm sorry, I'm just tired."

"You talk to Hope since-"

"No." She dropped her pen and looked up at Frankie. She's in the hospital still. Barry told me that she won't be charged. Both he and Jane told the Chief that it was in self defense."

"Was it?"

Maura turned away. "I've never been so confused in all of my life. I want answers."

"Then why are you sitting here?"

"What?"

"Go." he pointed at the door. "Go to the hospital and get answers. You're owed that much. Go talk to her."

"I can't just..."

"Yes you can. You're the Chief Medical Examiner. You have plenty of people beneath you that can get the work done. Go. I'll tell Jane where you went."

She wasn't sure if she wanted Jane to know where she was, but Frankie's intentions were pure and Maura knew that if Jane came down and found her missing, surely she would be distressed. She nodded at Frankie and stood, slowly pulling off her lab coat and slipping into the coat she had hanging on the back of her chair. "Thank you, Frankie. You really have become a very good friend."

"You're family, Maura. You always will be."

Fresh tears sprung to Maura's eyes as she walked out to her car.

* * *

><p>Korsak bounded into the room with a wide grin on his face. Though he walked with a limp, Jane could see the color back in his cheeks and the air seemed considerably thinner with her partner back at his desk. It had only been four days since the ordeal with Frank, but the notion that Vince was working again and out of the hospital took more weight off Jane's chest than she realized she had been holding on to. The older man wrapped his thick arm around her briefly, gave her a squeeze, then pulled back to look at her.<p>

"You doin' okay? I heard..."

"Fine." Jane managed a smile, pulling away from him and reaching into her desk. She pulled out a chocolate bar that she had stashed there a few days prior and tossed it to him. He fumbled with it before maintaining a firm grip. "Welcome back."

"You know me too well."

"I know your stomach too well." she jokingly pat his gut. "Now get back to work, Sergeant."

"Ah, come on! Tell me what I've missed."

"Work, work, work, shooting."

"How about you tell me about that last part?"

"I'm sure Frost filled you in."

"I want to hear it from you."

Jane sighed. "Maura's okay. It's over."

"What happened to you that night?" He pointed to Jane's arm where, even though she wore a long sleeved shirt, the bulk from a tightly wrapped bandage protruded. She shrugged and kicked her feet up onto the desk.

"Grazed me. No big deal. Lost some blood."

"Lost a lot of blood from what I heard."

"Well if you've heard everything, why are you asking me?"

"You're regressing."

"Excuse me?"

"To the pissed off, angry at the world detective you were after Hoyt. What happened to you, Jane?"

Her annoyance was growing. She stood up and brushed passed him, shoving a file she had on her desk into a filing cabinet. "Nothing happened to me." she growled, taking extra time to flip through files.

"I talked to Maura."

"Lots of people talk to Maura."

"She said something about Hoyt."

Jane slammed the drawer shut. "Well _Maura _should have probably kept that little detail to herself."

"She's concerned."

"She doesn't have to be concerned!" she retorted angrily. "I'm fine! She's the one that was kidnapped! She's the one that almost died, she's the one that I let get hurt. It isn't her _fault _that I got shot. It isn't her problem. I'm the one that screwed up!"

* * *

><p>Maura found herself hesitating outside of Hope's room. She peeked in and saw a young girl sitting at the foot of the hospital bed, long blonde hair scaling down her back just a little bit past her waist. Though Maura couldn't see the front of her face, she knew that the girl was smiling, as a light, airy laugh was filtering through the air and out the door towards Maura. Interrupting seemed rude, but there was no squashing the insatiable need to talk to Hope, and Maura had an idea of who the girl was. She wanted to go inside.<p>

"I'm sorry to intrude." she said clearly from the doorway. Hope's eyes flashed between hers and the girl sitting on the bed, who had now turned around to face Maura. She was very pretty. Her eyes were the same blue-green that Maura's were, but they had a different shape to them, and her skin was a smooth ivory. Light brown freckles dotted her cheeks and met atop her rounded, button nose. With her lips curved in a smile, she stood from the bed and looked at Maura expectantly, but Maura wasn't sure what more to say.

Hope, her voice crackling a bit at the end of her sentence, said: "Katherine, this is my friend Maura. Maura, this is Katherine. My daughter. " It took everything Maura had not to flinch at the word friend. Katherine extended a hand and shook Maura's, but Maura didn't have much strength to shake back.

"Nice to meet you." she said kindly.

"Katy, why don't you go downstairs and get some lunch. I'd like to talk to Maura alone." Katy hesitated. She seemed protective of Hope, but eventually she shrugged on her sweater and grabbed her bag, not forgetting to give her mom a kiss on the forehead before meandering out the door. "I didn't think you would come." said Hope when Katy was out of sight.

"I have questions."

"Maura..."

"No." Maura's hands fell down to her side. "No, I have questions and you have answers."

"I don't think I have answers that you want to hear."

"I want the truth." she said firecly. "I want to know who I am. I want to know who you are. Katherine, she's your daughter. Does she know about me? Does she know she has a sister?"

"Maura."

"Stop saying my name unless you're going to tell me what I want to hear." The tone Maura used even surprised herself. Hope raised an eyebrow to her, but didn't say anything. She only sighed. "Please. I'm asking you to answer a few questions. Don't I deserve that much?"

After a moment, Hope said: "Katy has a sister. Her name is Kellie. She also has two brothers, her twin Michael and her older brother Evan." She paused, eyeing Maura for some kind of reaction, but Maura held strong. Inside, Maura was trying to grapple with the fact that she had four siblings – and that Hope still hadn't answered her question. Or had she? "She knows her sister. Her sister is Kellie."

"And what about me? Did you ever tell any of your children about your first child?"

"My children do not know about you nor do they know about Constance. They believe that I am an only child." Maura went to respond, but Hope stopped her. "Maura, it's for their own good. It has always been for their own good. As much as I was trying to protect you, I was trying to protect them. They would never have understood. What could I have told them? That I got pregnant when I was eighteen with the child of a member of the mob? How would that have looked? What lessons would I have been teaching them?"

"Responsibility? Owning up to your, well, I suppose I would definitely be considered a mistake. Teaching them that we all make errors in judgment? You have a swimming pool filled with life lessons for your children but you chose your reputation."

"That isn't fair."

"Isn't _fair?_ And how was it fair that any of this happened? What did you even tell your children that you were in here for? Look at you – they must have asked!"

"A mugging." Hope said quietly. "I told them I was mugged."

"And do you just plan on never letting them read the newspaper? This has been front page news for a week!" The older woman remained silent. "You know, I thought I was going to come here and figure out a little bit of who I was. I thought maybe this would be good for me. I would see where I got my quirks, my behaviors. A scientific experiment, if you want to call it that. But we are nothing alike. How can you lay there and lie to everyone you're supposed to love? How?"

"I'm lying to protect them."

"You're lying to protect yourself." spat Maura. "You're selfish."

"I'm sorry, Maura. Did you not have a good life? Did Constance not provide you with a home, with clothes? Look at you – you're accomplished, you're beautiful! And you stand there and call me selfish? I gave you this life. I made sure you had the best. Where would you be if I would have kept you? Likely, you would be dead and so would I!"

Taking a deep breath, Maura took a step closer to the bed. "I am a medical examiner. I can tell you everything about a person in their death. I can tell you how many broken bones they endured during their lifetime and I can give you an idea of how they broke them. But I can't tell you what made them do the things they did. I can't tell you if it was because they were trying to impress their parents or siblings, or if they have a genetic predisposition for rebellion and adventure. I can't tell you if they're just like their mother or father. I know only what the body tells me, but I have never been able to understand the heart or the mind. I can't. Because my entire life, I've wondered if the things I do, the things people teased me for, the things I loved and hated about myself, if they were a part of the parents who gave me up. It is a hole I have never been able to fill. I will never blame you for giving me up, because I know you thought it was the right choice, but I will never forgive you for forgetting me. I will never forgive you for being a liar."

Maura swung around and went to leave the room, and she certainly would have, if it weren't for Hope's voice ringing in her ear just as Maura reached the threshold:

"I killed my husband."

* * *

><p>Jane fell hunched over her desk, long fingers threading themselves through her hair and massaging her aching head. Somewhere behind her stood Korsak, his eyes looking down sadly at the broken detective. Her words were still hanging heavily in the air between them. Neither she or Korsak were quite surprised by them – Jane did have a tendency to blame herself for things that went wrong on the job, that was just how she was – but it was not at all Jane like to break down, especially in front of any of her coworkers. Korsak always assumed that Jane and Maura's sleepovers was when Jane really let her guard down. He rarely saw it himself.<p>

He let Jane have a moment before he placed one beefy hand on her shoulder, squeezing just enough so she could feel him behind her. She didn't shrug away from his touch like he expected; in fact, Jane seemed to let herself fall back onto his hand. Korsak nudged her to stand up and she obliged.

"You gotta stop this, Jane."

Jane pulled her eyes away from his. The sadness was now masked once more by brooding anger. "Stop what?"

"Blaming yourself. This wasn't your mess. If anything, you helped clean it up."

She snorted. "Yeah, I did a great job. We got a dead kid, a dead dad, a pyschotic grandmother and I wouldn't blame Maura if she never spoke to me again. I should'a been here and instead I let Frankie do my job. He isn't even a detective and I let him do my work for me. I was supposed to be protecting her and on my watch I got a kid killed. A kid, Korsak. He died."

"Not because of you!"

"Damn right because of me!" she yelled. "If I would have taken my head out of my ass for five minutes and stopped thinking about Maura and if she was safe, I could'a been protecting Seamus! I shouldn't ov let him go anywhere in that house alone! I wasn't thinkin' right, Korsak. I made a mistake and it cost a life."

"We're cops, Jane. We can't save everyone. We all feel the loss of life on this job but we can't be held responsible for every single one. I read the file. Seamus had a lot of problems. Jane, he was going to do it whether you were there or not. It isn't your fault. You want someone to blame, blame the people that screwed him up his whole life!"

"I didn't follow protocol."

"Jane-"

"No." she held up a hand, then with her other reached down and unclipped her badge and gun from her belt. She thrust them both in Korsak's direction. "I should be fired."

"I'm not firing you."

"I killed him." she seethed.

"No," responded Korsak softly. "You didn't."

And then Jane couldn't hold it in any longer. The gun and badge both fell to the ground and Jane crumpled, her back sliding against the smooth wooden backing of her desk. She pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them tightly, burying her face into the tops of her knees while her hair seemed to veil her protectively from the outside world. Korsak knelt in front of her and pulled her into his arms. She struggled against him until finally she realized it was a losing battle, and Korsak held her for as long as the tears fell.

"Listen to me," he whispered gruffly. "You're the best God damn detective we've got here. This only proves my point. You care, Jane. Your heart is the best part of you. It is what makes you a good detective. We all make mistakes, but that's part of being human. I've had people die before that shouldn't have died. We serve to the best of our ability. We do our job, nothing more and nothing less. Sometimes it breaks us, but you're not broken. You're going to be fine. This sounds corny, but the strongest glue we've got to keep us cops together is the family we have around us. You got your Ma, you got your brothers. Your dad. You got me and Frost. And I can promise you, Jane. Maura won't ever leave you, no matter what you do. I think, if anything, this past year has proved that. Maura loves you."

A minute more of crying and Jane finally pulled away, her cheeks tinged red from embarrassment. She gave Korsak a weak smile and wiped at her eyes, letting out a small chuckle as well. "You should have had a kid, Korsak. You'd make a great dad. That step-son of yours is real lucky."

"Well, if things go well with your mother-"

"_Ugh, _oh!" Jane's face scrunched up in disgust and she punched Korsak on the shoulder. "God, that's disgusting. _God, _Korsak." she stood up and shook the thoughts out of her head. "Where's my gun? I need to shoot you."

"Don't make me fire you." he joked.

"Just try and get rid of me."

* * *

><p>Slowly, Maura turned around. She wasn't sure if she should look at Hope or not, but her eyes were immediately drawn to the grief stricken woman. Fat tears were already threatening to roll down Hope's cheeks and Maura had to stop herself from reaching out to comfort the woman.<p>

"Pardon?" asked Maura in a hushed tone.

"You're right. I'm a liar. And my lies killed my husband."

"I don't understand."

"The night you were born, Patrick and I spent one last night together." She clasped her hands and looked down at them, watching her knuckles turn white the harder she squeezed. "With you. We agreed that night that, if we were to protect you, and if Patrick was to protect me, we had to say goodbye to each other and to you. Patrick made me promise to never contact Constance. We made a promise to each other, to forget. To not look back."

"At least I know you don't break your promises." responded Maura bitterly. Hope gave her a weak smile.

"I did break my promise. During our relationship and up until the last few weeks of my pregnancy, Patrick and I would exchange letters. They weren't anything special. I would tell him about my life, later about you, and he would tell me the very few things he _could _tell me. Patrick took you to Constance's. He told me it would be too hard for me to leave you if I didn't say goodbye then, so I did. And after he left, I knew I couldn't leave behind that life so easily. Suddenly I was alone. I could never see my sister again. I had no contact with my mother or father. I no longer had you. I was entirely alone, and I needed something to anchor me, to remind myself that I was still real and that none of it was a dream. I kept the letters. I couldn't get rid of them." She hesitated to continue, but she looked up at Maura and saw that the blonde was still listening intently. She couldn't stop. "I got my life together. I met my husband Anthony at Harvard. We married, we worked. I was doing my internship at the hospital and Anthony was slumming at a law firm. We were happy. I truly thought I had accomplished what Patrick asked me to do. I had forgotten."

A nurse came in behind them and shuffled around the room. As she grabbed what she came in for, neither Maura or Hope looked at each other. The nurse asked Hope a few generic questions before finally leaving, and Hope let out a short breath that she seemed to have been holding in.

She continued. "At 27, I became pregnant with our first child. We were ecstatic. One day I was leaving the hospital and-" Hope paused, squeezing her eyes shut for a second before reopening them. "A man who I recognized from Patrick's home was in the waiting lobby. I was sure that they had found me. The stress caused me to miscarriage. I never told Anthony, but I begged him to move, and he was a good man. He didn't ask questions. We left for North Carolina, and our lives went back to normal. I got pregnant again three years later with Evan. Anthony opened his own law firm with his best friend. I had the twins in '93 and then Kellie in '95 and then I went back to complete my residency. I never looked at those letters, Maura. I shuffled them from house to house, but I was happy. I was so very happy. On Kellie's sixth birthday, Anthony was cleaning out our closet. We were getting ready to move again. He found the letters."

"Oh, my."

"Anthony read them. I had unwritten letters to Patrick in there, as well. Most were from Patrick, assuring me that everything would be okay and that he loved me. He confronted me and I confessed. I had to. And my husband, he was a good man. He never liked confrontation if he could help it. He preferred to cool off first. We didn't fight. He did what he always did; grabbed his keys, took his jacket and said he was going out for a drive. But he didn't come home that night. A drunk driver ran a red light and hit Anthony's car. He was killed instantly."

"Hope-"

"Please, don't pity me." she said warmly. "But I'm responsible for my husband's death. You're right. I was selfish and I'm a liar. More than that, I'm a coward. I've never told my children about you because after their father's death, I was afraid they would blame me. I blame myself, every second of every day. And I apologize for that, Maura. I'm sorry I can't be the mother that you envisioned or give you the answers you want to hear. If it helps, you're better than me. You're honest. You go after what you want. I have hid my entire life, too afraid of my past catching up with me. I'm not your mother. Constance is your mother, and whether you want to hear it or not, you two are so much alike. If you want to look towards someone who may give you some... genetically inclined answers, look to your _mother. _Stop looking at me."

Maura wasn't sure how to respond. She let herself look at Hope. Clearly, the conversation had worn her mother out. Or maybe she had always looked so tired? Her eyes were heavily lidded and the stress wrinkles lining her face looked even more profound in the hospital light. She had her hands still clasped together so tightly that her knuckles were fresh snow white. Maura took her own hand and reached down to touch Hope's. It surprised Hope; she recoiled her hand, looking up at Maura in shock, then let her hand go back down to just barely graze Maura's.

"You are a coward." whispered Maura. "And a liar." Hope turned her head to stare out the window. "But you are my mother. And I know nothing that I say in this room will make you believe that, but you are. I forgive you."

"I won't tell my children who you are. I can't."

"I still forgive you."

"How can you?"

"It's like you said. I go after what I want. I want to forgive you, so I will. You deserve some kind of forgiveness."

"Tell my sister I said hello."

"I will."

For the second and final time, Maura turned to leave the hospital room. Again Hope's voice stopped her, but this time Maura didn't stay to respond. She let Hope have the last word, a small smile playing at Maura's lips as she walked down the hall, her mother's voice echoing faintly in her ear: _"Kellie. You remind me most of your sister Kellie."_

* * *

><p>Under the setting Boston sun, Jane and Maura strutted down a fairly busy street together. The two had a rather pleasant dinner where Maura told Jane all that went on with Hope, and Jane sat and listened dutifully. A little part of her was sad that Maura hadn't asked her to come along – though, really, why would she have? - but she kept her mouth shut and ate her food. They briefly touched on other topics, but other than Hope, the conversation was slow. Jane didn't quite want to talk about the distance she had placed between herself and Maura yet, and she didn't quite understand how to bring it up.<p>

With her stomach full, Jane could hardly wait to go back to her apartment and lay down, but Maura seemed intent on roaming the streets a while longer.

Jane groaned. "Maura, why are we out _walking?_ Shouldn't we be resting? Eating a lot of junk food? Healing? Recovering?" Maura pursed her lips and slowed her step.

"You're the one that insisted on not being admitted to the hospital."

"Well I'm fine." she grumbled. "I just lost a little blood."

"Syncope is very serious, Jane." huffed the doctor. "I wish you would have at least stayed for overnight observation."

"I'm still standing, aren't I?"

"You are." Maura replied shortly. "But if you had only-"

"Maura, I'm fine. Besides, you didn't stay either."

"I only needed stitches."

"You had a concussion."

"And you aptly watched me for the night and made sure I was okay, even though you should have been-"

"Yes," sighed Jane. "I know. In the hospital under observation."

"I'm only concerned for your health."

"I know." she paused. "Thank you," Jane muttered as an afterthought. Maura hummed in response and continued walking. They had not spent a significant amount of time together since the encounter with Frank and Hope. Jane brushed over the details of what happened with Seamus. Her incident report was hard enough to go through and Maura, who always seemed to have a knack for understanding when Jane was struggling with her thoughts, left well enough alone and didn't press the issue of what happened at the house. In return, Jane spared Maura from inquisitive reporters by letting her come back to the apartment when it had been given the all clear. Prior to the green light, they had shared a hotel room, neither having much interest in sleeping on the rock hard mattresses at the prescient but neither wanting to be separated from the other. Jane got little sleep. She spent most of the night watching Maura in an attempt to figure out what to do about her relationship with the woman. It had not been as informative or productive as she had hoped.

"I was thinking of moving back into my place this evening."

This threw Jane from her thoughts immediately. "What?"

"Well, I've stayed with you so long. It would be best."

"You don't want to live with me anymore?"

"I didn't say that."

"Well then why are you going back home?"

"Jane," Maura turned to her, exasperated. "I have to go home eventually. We're not..." she paused and pulled her eyes away from her friend. "-we're not roommates." she finally said. "I have a home and it is safe to live there again. Besides, Frankie has to be going crazy with Angela still staying with him." Jane was quiet. Maura frowned. "Why aren't you saying anything?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"Well, something."

"You're right." she said sullenly. "You have a home."

"And yet you sound throughly unenthusiastic about regaining sole occupancy of your own home. I thought you would be thrilled."

Jane shrugged. "I like having you at my place."

"You do?"

"Well I don't not like having you at my place." replied Jane cooly. "I mean, your turtle-"

"-tortoise!"

"-is a little annoying at times, because I swear Maura, if I trip over him one more time while going to the bathroom at night-"

"-well if you let me plug in the night light that he likes-"

"-well I like it dark-"

"-well it's not like it would cast much light, Jane-"

"-are we _really _fighting about this right now? Really?" Jane threw her hands up in defeat.

Maura frowned and crossed her arms. "Well it won't be a problem anymore because I will be moving back into my own house."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"_Fine._"

Sighing, Maura let her arms drop to the side. "Oh, Jane."

"What?"

"This is stupid.'

"What is?"

"This." She pointed between them. "Can't we just-"

"Giovanni."

"That is certainly not what I was about to say."

"No, turn around. Giovanni!"

"Oh." Maura's face fell. "Oh. He's everywhere, isn't he?"

"C'mon, he's seen us. Look...couply."

"No, wait." She put her hands up to stop Jane from grabbing her hand. "No, Jane. I don't want to. I don't want to lie to Giovanni anymore."

"You'd rather he lick your face?"

"No, I'd rather be _honest. _Something that everyone deserves. I lied to Giovanni before because a small part of me believed what I was telling him, but-"

"-Maura-"

"Please, let me finish. A small part of me really and truly believed that we were more than just friends. Perhaps I only wanted to believe it and I deluded myself, but it made me feel better about lying to him. But I don't want to anymore, Jane. Because there isn't an us. There never was, and it hurts too much to pretend to be your girlfriend when there is nothing I want more than to _be _your girlfriend. I'm not just moving back into my home to give you your space back. I'm moving back to give myself space, because looking at you...Jane," her voice broke. "It hurts."

"Are you saying you don't even want to be my friend?"

"I will always be your friend." Maura managed a smile. "Nothing can ever change that, but I need something, Jane. A sign. Something that makes me believe you're willing to try for us to be more, and you've kept me hanging on the edge. I don't blame you." she said quickly, her hand brushing Jane's shoulder. "I understand, but you need to understand too."

"I understand." said Jane stiffly.

"Do you?"

Their eyes reflected each others' pain. Jane took a step back and cleared her throat as Giovanni approached them. He gave them a grin, one that even still made unpleasant tingles trickle down Jane's spine, and playfully punched them each on the shoulder. Maura winced and Jane tried wrapping her arm protectively around her waist, but Maura shrugged to the side. Jane knew that Maura was sensitive about other people touching her now, but her shrugging Jane away hurt.

"Lookin' hot as always, ladies." he said, looking from one woman to the other. "How you two doin'?"

"Fine, Giovanni." Jane replied passively. "But we're really in a hurry, so-"

"Heard about you twos in the paper, what happened down there. You gals okay?"

Maura smiled. "Thank you for your concern. We're well."

"And how's the, you know, you two?" he grinned wildly and pointed at the both of them. "You two plannin' on settlin' down any time soon?"

"Actually, Giovanni." Maura took a deep breath. "I really should be honest with you. Jane and I-"

"-are very happy." interrupted Jane. Her abrupt answer caused Maura to twist her body very quickly and stare. Her mouth fell open, gaping. "Yes, we are _very _happy." she said happily. Jane didn't make the mistake to try and bring Maura to her.

"Jane..."

"I know, I know. I don't usually brag." Jane wasn't sure what she was doing, but it felt right. "But you make me so happy."

"I-"

"And to be _honest, _Giovanni-" Jane turned away from Maura for a moment to look at the strong, Italian boy from her youth. "There is nobody I would rather be spending my life with right now." she turned back to Maura. "Honest."

A pause lingered between them. "Honest?" whispered Maura.

Jane nodded and smiled, leaning in and placing a small kiss on Maura's forehead. "Honest." When Jane pulled back, Maura's eyes were still closed. She saw tears brimming on the lashes of her eyes and Jane brought her thumb up to swipe them away. Knowing she had made her point, Jane comfortably wrapped her arm around Maura's waist and pulled her closer, looking back at Giovanni with a satisfied grin. It felt right. "Very happy." said Jane as Maura buried her head in Jane's shoulder and laughed.

"You two make a good couple." he said. Jane was surprised at the genuine tone.

"I agree." she replied. Maura pulled away from Jane, her eyes still a bit wet, and smiled at Giovanni. Jane's phone went off.

"I'll leave you two to your day." he nodded at Jane's phone and gave them each another punch to the shoulders. Jane rolled his eyes as he walked away. Maura placed her hand on Jane's phone just as she went to answer it and leaned forward, kissing Jane on the lips. They broke apart and smiled.

"Okay," said Maura. "Now you can answer."

"Rizzoli."

"_Jane, something's happened.._" It was Frost.

"What? What happened? Is it Frankie? Ma?"

"_No, Jane..."_

"Frost, just tell me."

"_It's Korsak. He had a heart attack." _

"What?"

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><p><strong>Okay. EpilogueComplete100%finalchapter is going up tomorrow. Sorry this too so long, lots going on. And I just wasn't getting along with this story. **

**The epilogue is basically done I just have to redo a few parts. Originally I was going to do a sequel to this story but I decided to take the first chapter of the sequel I wrote and make it the epilogue to this story and start something new.**

**Thank you all for sticking with me.**


	27. A Battle Won

**One month later**

"You're feeding me rabbit food." Korsak said sadly, poking at the salad Angela was preparing for him in Maura's kitchen.

"You need a good diet!" huffed Angela as she stirred a large bowl of leafy greens, tomatoes, cucumbers and carrots. "A man of your age that has gone through what he's gone through – "

"I had a heart attack, that's all."

"Oh!" shrieked Angela. "That's all! Did you hear that, you guys? That's all!"

Korsak grinned cheekily. "I'm still standing, aren't I?"

"Getting shot at, serial killers, heart attacks." grumbled the irritated mother. " – if your jobs don't kill you – "

"You will." Jane said softly, placing a small kiss on her mother's cheek before moving towards the fridge to grab a beer.

Narrowing her eyes, but still smiling at her oldest child, Angela said: "Yeah I just might if you don't wash those hands before we eat. And put that beer down! We're having wine tonight."

When everything was ready, Jane and Maura shuffled into the dining area from the kitchen and took their seats at the table. Angela was sitting at one end and Frankie at the other with Tommy sandwiched between Korsak and Frost opposite Jane and Maura. The table smelled wonderful. The smell of heavy sauces and steaming vegetables wafted up towards them, and on any normal occasion it would have made Jane salivate – but not today. She sat with her hand clutching Maura's beneath the table, a twinge of excitement and a lot of fear mixing together in her stomach, making her nauseous. Time and time again Maura told her she didn't have to tell Angela to make her happy. In fact, Jane was pretty sure that Maura would be content for the rest of their lives not telling Angela, not because she was ashamed, but because she knew how terrified Jane was of telling her mother. She couldn't do it, though. Keeping the secret had begun to eat Jane from the inside out and going by her every day life hiding something this big – even if Jane had practiced for many years at hiding things from her mother – was too much.

"Amen." Jane heard Angela say. She looked up and realized she had missed the prayer. Tommy was already shoveling fork fulls of gnocchi into his mouth and ripping apart a piece of bread with the other. She looked over to Maura, who was daintily placing a small portion of the pasta on her plate, and waited for her to turn and look. When she did, the fear felt as if it were slowly dissolving. She knew it was then or never.

"Hey, Ma?" Jane cleared her throat. Angela looked over to her daughter, a happy smile on her face – the happy smile of a mother eating dinner with her kids. Jane froze. "There's something that..." she looked over at Frankie, he nodded encouragingly. Jane had told Frankie nearly the day after she and Maura made it official. "I need to say something."

Angela's face paled. "There's another serial killer." she muttered seriously.

"No," Jane let out a shaky breath. "Well, probably." she reasoned. "But no, not right now. This isn't about work. I, uh," a nervous laugh escaped the back of her throat. "I like Maura."

"Of course you like Maura." Angela rolled her eyes. "I like Maura too."

"No, Ma. We... I... could you?" Jane looked down at Maura and moved her hands, gesticulating that she wanted Maura to stand up.

"Oh, yes, of course." she pulled the napkin from her lap and placed it carefully next to her plate, standing up next to Jane and waiting for her girlfriend to make the next move.

"I _like _her. Like," Jane reached down and grabbed Maura's hand, holding it up and waving their clutched hands around in the air. "-like this."

Still confused, Angela shrugged. "Like...hands? You like her like hands?"

"They're dating, Ma!" yelled Frankie. Jane turned around and cast him a sour look.

"Thanks for that."

"Well you weren't getting anywhere," he snapped back.

"Well I was trying to do it delicately!"

"She's not a baby, Janie."

"Stop fighting, both of you!" yelled Angela. Jane turned back around to look at her mother. Her face was paler than she had ever seen. She took turns looking at Maura and Jane and, when she finally settled on her daughter, her whole body seemed to be shaking. She opened her mouth a few times to speak but seemed to close it right after, words lost somewhere in the back of her throat. Jane dropped her hand from Maura's and walked closer to Angela, but Angela furrowed her brow and took one step back for every step forward Jane took. "You and Maura – you're dating?"

"I know it's," she mulled her words around in her mouth before speaking. "-unorthodox. I know it's not, you know, what we... what the... I know she's not a guy, Ma, but-"

Angela put her hand up to stop her. "You're really dating? This isn't a trick? A joke?"

Her heart sinking deeper and deeper into the pit of her stomach, Jane shook her head. "Ma, this isn't a joke. Maura and I..." she gripped Maura's hand tighter. "We're a couple." Angela remained silent for longer than Jane felt she could tolerate, and by the time she opened her mouth to finally talk, Jane was full out shaking.

"Well it took you two long enough." Angela cried out, tossing her napkin onto the table and slouching in her seat. "I mean, _really. _How many dates did I have to set you up on before you realized it was Maura you wanted to date, Janie? You're clueless!"

"Wha – _what?_"

"I bet it was Maura that finally said something. I don't know how you did it, Maura. I really don't." At this point, Frankie was howling with laughter and Tommy, who had chosen just before Angela spoke to stuff a large helping of hot gnocchi in his mouth, had tears streaming down his face from laughing and choking on his food. "Not that I didn't like those boys. Gabriel would have been good for you. And I do like Casey. Dean looked like a drowned rat, though. He needed a shower."

"I – you – "

"C'mon, let's eat."

"No, wait!" shouted Jane. "You really don't care?"

"All I've ever wanted was for you to be happy, Janie. I still expect grandkids. I don't care who you're dating, I still want grandkids."

"I would love to have children one day." Maura said to Angela, with a large smile on her face. The smile faded when Jane turned to her, shocked.

"_You do?_"

"I do."

"I need to sit down."

"Jane gets queasy when you talk about big decisions in the future." explained Angela. Maura nodded knowingly.

"I do not!"

"You do." chimed Frankie. "She used to turn green when you would ask her what she wanted for her birthday."

Tommy and Angela laughed. "Remember that time she puked all over the backseat of Pops' car after she realized she had to choose between playing soccer or playing hockey?"

"Oh, well – " Maura pushed the bowl of gnocchi away from Jane. "Don't throw up in the gnocchi. Your mother worked very hard for tonight's dinner."

"I'm not going to – nevermind. I'm fine, really. I just..."

"We've only been dating a month. It's perfectly natural for you to feel overly emotionally stimulated by the thought of creating a long life with me, including children. We have plenty of time to talk about it. I was merely assuring your mother that I was on board with the thought of giving her grandchildren." she smiled sweetly at Jane and caressed her hand. "Everything is alright."

"You're right." Jane took a deep breath. She looked across the table and her eyes scanned everyone sitting around them; Frankie, a wide grin on his face as he and Tommy talked about something that Jane didn't quite understand, Korsak who, looking down at his meager salad, was eyeing the bowl of gnocchi enviously. Jane chuckled. Frost was in deep discussion with Angela now, something about getting a recipe. But they were all there and they all looked, with the exception of Korsak, happy. Unbothered by the news. They all still loved her. And Maura...

Maura was alive. She was sitting next to Jane. Through everything Jane had put her through, not just in the past few months, but in the many years of their friendship, Maura still wanted her. She wanted to hold her hand and hold her at night and be her everything. Maura wanted Jane, and Jane knew she wanted Maura for the rest of her life, and whatever that meant, she was okay with.

"Maura?" whispered Jane. Maura turned to look at her.

"Yes?"

"I..." Jane faltered, looking around the make sure there weren't any prying ears. Everyone seemed immersed in their conversations. "Iloveyou." The words were crushed together, but Jane knew Maura understood. They hadn't said it yet, preferring to wait and see where their relationship led them, because despite in the fact that they had said they loved each other numerous times before, it was different now. It was real.

Jane had fully expected the few tears to well up in Maura's eyes, and she caught the first one with her finger as it fell. "Jane," breathed Maura finally. "I love you too."

And Jane knew in that moment that she would never question her heart over her head ever again. Because despite the worries and doubts she had felt the past few months, her heart _was _one of the best parts of her, and she needed it. It didn't affect her job, it enhanced her job. Her heart enhanced her life. Because if she pushed everything aside and focused solely on what was logical, she would miss out on all the things that were truly right and good. Maura made Jane a better person. Maura fixed Jane's heart.

The battle she felt inside of her head ceased. Jane was happy. Truly, long lasting happy.

And from it all, Angela even got what she always wanted: a doctor in the family.

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><p><strong>Thank you so much for everyone that has stuck with me thus far. This story is now complete. I've loved every review and every conversation I've had with you all, and I hope you stick around to check out the new story I'll be releasing in a few weeks. Thank you so much again and let me know what you thought of this last chapter in the reviews!<strong>


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